GIFT   OF 
Irving  Lindhahr 


RINCE    EUGENE 

AN 


%n  ».c 


.^na^uH  oaniil 


Prince  Eugene. 


PRINCE    EUGENE 

AND   HIS  TIMES 

Qln  igistorical  Nouel 


BY 

L.   MUHLBACH,  r'^'-"^ 


AUTBOB  OP  FREDERICK  THE   GREAT   AND  HIS  COURT,   THE   MERCHANT  OP  BBRU)^ 
BBRUV  AND   SANS-SOUCl,   JOSEPH   I'     AND  HIS  COURT,   ETC 


TRANSLATED    FROM   THE    GERMAN 

By  ADELAIDE  DeV.  CHAUDRON 


NEW  YORK 

THE  McCLURE  CO. 

MCMX 


COPTRISHT,   1868, 

By  D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY. 


CONTENTS 


BOOK  L 

CHAPTKB  PAOB 

L — The  Countess  of  Soissons 1 

n. — The  Laboratory 5 

III. — Prince  Eugene 12 

IV.— The  Riot ,       ...  23 

V. — Barbesieur  Louvois.       •,••...  84 

VI.— The  StAte  Reception 43 

VII.— Help  in  Time  of  Need  .......  52 

VIII.— The  Flight 61 

IX.— The  Parting 71 

BOOK  II. 

I.— Marianna  Mancini 84 

II.— The  Trial 90 

III.— A  Skirmish 99 

IV.— Louvois'  Daughter 109 

v.— The  Court-Ball 119 

VI.— The  Lady  of  the  Bedchamber 126 

VI L— The  Lady  of  the  Bedchamber 133 

VIII.— First  Love 146 

IX.— The  Betrayal 166 

BOOK  in. 

L — The  Disappointment 163 

II.— The  Foes 170 

IIL— The  Repulse 176 

M  \^)5 


IV  CONTENTS. 

OHAFTSR  PAOS 

IV.— The  Farewell 184 

V. — A  Page  from  History 188 

VI.— The  Emperor  Leopold  1 193 

VII.— The  Council  of  War 197 

VIII.— The  Plains  of  Kitsee 207 

IX.— The  Baptism  of  Blood 217 

X.— Vienna      .        „ 227 

XI. — The  Re-enforcements      .•*••.,  233 


BOOK  IV. 

I.— The  Fall  of  Buda 244 

II.— The  Friends 253 

III.— The  Marquis  Strozzi 266 

IV.— Laura 275 

v.— The  Regatta 284 

VI.— The  Negotiator        .        , 299 

VII.— The  Lovers  reunited 311 

VIII.— Antonio's  Expiation 322 

IX.— The  Dungeon 325 


BOOK  V. 

I.— A  Twofold  Victory 881 

II.— The  Dumb  Music 342 

III. — The  Retirement  of  the  Commander-in-Chief        ,        .  347 

IV.— The  Fall  of  Belgrade 356 

v.— The  Marchioness 364 

VI.— The  Flight 874 

VII.— The  Forester's  Hut 380 


BOOK  VL 

I.— Sister  Angelica 886 

II.— Louis  the  Fourteenth 394 

III.— The  King  and  the  Petitioners 401 

IV.— The  Window  that  was  too  large 407 

v.— The  Imperial  Diet  at  Regensburg        ....  415 

VI.— The  Judith  of  Esslingen 424 

VII.— Her  Return 432 


CONTEirrS.  V 
BOOK  VIL 

OBAPTKB  PAOS 

I.— The  Island  of  Bliss 436 

II.— The  French  in  Speier 440 

III.— The  Treasure 446 

IV. — Caspar's  Vengeance 451 

V. — The  Duchess  of  Orleans 454 

VI.— The  Deliverance  of  Trier 458 

VIL— The  Fire-tongs 466 

VIII.— Brave  Hearts 471 


BOOK  vni. 

I. — The  Advance  into  France 480 

XL— The  Ravens 485 

ni.— Sick  and  Well 493 

IV. — The  Duke's  Dangerous  Illness 499 

v.— The  Marquis  Strozzi 508 

VI.— Insanity  and  Revenge 513 

VII.— The  Ambrosia 521 

VIII.— The  Betrothal 530 

IX.— Vengeance 539 


PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


BOOK  I. 
PRINCE  EUGENE,  THE  LITTLE  ABBA 


CHAPTER  I.  .   >  -••,-.    . 

THE  COUNTESS  OF  SOISSOI^S. 

**  Is  that  your  last  word,  madame  ? "  said  Louvois,  in  a  tone 
so  emphatic  as  to  be  almost  threatening. 

"My  last  word,"  replied  the  countess,  haughtily.  "My 
daughter  is  too  young  to  marry,  and  were  she  older,  I  would 
not  impose  a  husband  upon  her  who  was  not  the  man  of  her 
choice.     She  shall  bestow  her  hand  and  heart  together." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  it  is  impossible  for  your  daughter  to 
love  my  son  ? "  asked  Louvois,  hastily. 

The  countess  raised  her  shoulders  and  smiled  superciliously, 
while  from  her  large  black  eyes  there  darted  forth  a  glance 
that  spoke  volumes  to  the  mind  of  the  irritated  minister. 

"  It  would  appear,"  said  she,  "  that  there  can  be  no  sympa- 
thy between  the  Mancinis  and  the  Louvois,  and  that  their  an- 
tipathies are  to  be  perpetuated  from  generation  to  generation." 

"  You  would  remind  me  of  the  similarity  which  the  fate  of 
my  son  as  a  wooer  bears  to  that  of  his  father  ? "  asked  Louvois. 
"I  do  not  deny  it;  the  repul.se  which  twenty-one  years  ago  I 
received  from  Olympia  Mancini,  she  repeats  to-day  in  the  per- 
son of  her  daughter.  But  it  may  be  that  on  some  other  occa- 
sion the  Mancinis  shall  be  repulsed  by  the  Louvois." 

"  A  threat  ? "  said  the  countess,  angrily. 

Now  it  was  the  shoulders  of  the  minister  that  were  raised. 
"  I  have  sowed  love  and  reaped  hate,"  said  he,  quietly. 

a> 


2  PRINCE  EUGEXE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

The  countess  laughed.  "  Ah,"  said  she,  "  I  see  that  you 
have  remodelled  your  speech  according  to  the  pious  formulary 
of  Madame  de  Maintenon,  and  that  you  seek  for  your  trouba- 
dours among  the  prophets." 

"Yes — the  Scriptural  prophets  satisfy  my  cravings  for 
knowledge,"  replied  Louvois,  smiling.  "  Pity  that  everybody 
else  is  not  as  orthodox  as  I  1 " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ? "  asked  the  countess,  uneasily. 

"  I  mean  that  it  would  be  better  for  the  Countess  de  Sois- 
sons  if  she  imitated  the  discretion  of  Madame  de  Maintenon, 
and  eschewed  association  with  those  unholy  prophets  who 
draw  their  inspiration  from  the  stars." 

"  Do  you  thinii  so  ?  And  yet  the  book  of  the  stars  is  in- 
spired and  contaitas  truth,  for  therein  it  stands  written  that  our 
two  families  will  never  be  united  by  the  bonds  of  love.  What 
is  the  use  of  striving  against  destiny  ?  Fate  has  willed  our 
enmity,  and  we  must  submit  with  resignation,"  said  the  count- 
ess, with  an  affected  drawl.  "  You  see,"  added  she,  pathetic- 
ally, "  how  beautifully  I  fall  into  your  new-fashioned  dialect, 
«,nd  how  harmoniously  my  dulcet  notes  mingle  with  those  of 
the  court  chorus." 

"  I  remember  the  dulcet  notes  of  a  poem  written  years  ago, 
which  were  wont  to  edify  the  court  with  a  strain  that  would 
sound  inharmonious  there  to-day.  What  would  De  Montes- 
pan  and  De  Maintenon  say  to  such  discordant  lines  as  these  ?  '* 
And  Louvois  began  to  hum  the  following  : 

"  La  belle  Olympe  n'a  point  de  seconds, 
Et  I'Amour  a  bien  reuni 
Dedans  I'infante  Mancini 
Par  un  avantage  supreme 
Tout  ce  qui  force  h.  dire :  J'aime ! 
Et  qui  I'a  fait  dire  k  nos  dieux  I "  * 

"  What  they  would  say  ? "  replied  the  countess  ;  "  why» 
they  would  listen  approvingly  to  a  rhapsody  which  time  has 
falsified,  and  imagine  that  I  wince  to  hear  it  sung.  But  they 
would  be  in  error.  I  thank  you  for  recalling  to  my  mind  the 
golden  vision  of  the  past,  wherein  a  king  knelt  at  my  feet,  and 

*  "  Les  Nieces  de  Mazarion,"  par  Een^e,  p.  177. 


THE  COUNTESS  OF  SOISSONS.  3 

Louvois  lived  upon  my  smiles.  She  who  can  look  back  upon 
conquests  such  as  these,  can  afford  to  despise  the  contrarieties 
of  the  present,  while  she  plumes  her  victorious  wings  for  fu- 
ture flight,  wherein  she  shall  attain  indemnification  for  the 
trifling  vexations  of  to-day." 

"  I  wish  you  may  realize  your  joyous  anticipations,"  replied 
Louvois,  with  a  sneer.  "But  if  you  will  allow  me  to  draw 
your  horoscope,  you  will  confess  that  I  am  a  wiser  seer  than 
your  dear  friend  La  Voisin." 

For  one  moment  the  features  of  the  countess  contracted 
painfully,  but  she  mastered  her  emotion  and  was  able  to  reply 
with  a  tranquil  smile, — "  Do  so,  your  excellency,  I  am  all  at- 
tention." 

"  I  read  in  the  stars  that  snares  encompass  you,  Coimtess  de 
Soissons.  You  have  enemies,  numerous,  powerful,  and  crafty. 
At  their  head  stands  the  queen,  who  can  never  forgive  you  for 
having  opened  one  of  her  letters,  and  having  stolen  thence  a 
note  addressed  to  the  king,  which  accused  her  of  secret  machi- 
nations with  Spain.  Then  there  is  poor  Louise  de  la  Valli^re^ 
who  for  your  cruel  sarcasms  shed  such  oceans  of  tears — " 

"  She  is  in  a  convent." 

"True,  but  the  scars  of  your  persecutions  are  upon  her 
heart ;  and  although  she  may  be  a  Christian,  think  you  that 
she  has  ceased  to  be  a  woman  ?  Third — among  the  number  of 
those  who  hate  you  is  the  Marquise  de  Montespan,  to  whom 
the  brilliant  assemblages  at  the  Hotel  de  Soissons  are  a  source 
of  mortification,  for  she  can  never  forget  that,  on  more  than 
one  occasion,  the  king  has  forgotten  his  rendezvous  with  her, 
to  linger  at  the  side  of  his  fascinating  hostess.  And  we  must 
not  overlook  the  pious  De  Maintenon,  who  lives  in  constant 
terror  lest  some  day  or  other  your  presence  should  recall  to 
the  king  that  golden  vision  of  his  youth,  whereof  Olympia 
Mancini  was  the  enshrined  divinity.  For  this  reason  you  are 
more  obnoxious  to  the  ex-governess  than  De  Montespan  her- 
self. The  star  of  the  latter  favorite  is  already  on  the  wane, 
whereas  yours  may  rise  again  at  the  bidding  of  Memory. 
These  four  women  have  long  meditated  your  destruction,  and 
many  are  the  thorns  with  which  they  have  strewed  your  path 
in  life.    But,  to  compass  your  ruin,  there  was  wanting  on4 


4  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

strong  arm  that  could  concentrate  their  scattered  missiles, 
and  hurl  them  in  one  great  bomb  at  your  head.  Countess  de 
Soissons,  that  arm  is  mine — I,  Louvois,  the  trusted  minister  of 
the  king,  the  friend  of  De  Maintenon,  the  mightiest  subject  in 
France — I  am  the  man  whose  arm  shall  strike  on  behalf  of 
your  enemies,  of  whom  in  me  behold  the  chief  !  You  have 
thrown  me  your  gauntlet,  and  I  raise  it.  I  proclaim  myself 
your  foe,  and  since  there  must  be  war  between  our  races,  we 
shall  see  whether  for  the  future  the  Mancinis  may  not  be  made 
to  suffer  through  the  Louvois !  This  is  my  horoscope,  and  now 
mark  well  my  last  words :  La  Voisin  the  soothsayer  was  ar- 
rested last  night." 

All  the  seK-control  which  she  could  gather  to  meet  this 
sinister  disclosure,  could  not  smother  the  groan  which  was  up- 
heaved from  Olympia's  sinking  heart. 

Louvois  affected  not  to  hear  it.  He  bowed  low  and  pre- 
pared to  take  his  leave.  The  countess  made  no  effort  to  de- 
tain him ;  she  was  too  frightened  for  circumspection,  and  she 
followed  his  retreating  figure  with  eyes  that  were  all  aflame 
with  hate.  Nor  did  their  fiery  glow  abate  when,  having 
reached  the  door,  Louvois  turned  and  confronted  her. 

He  surveyed  her  calmly,  but  his  eye  returned  hate  for  hate, 
and  so  for  a  moment  they  stared  at  each  other,  while  there 
passed  between  the  two  a  silent  challenge,  which  both  felt  was 
to  be  fought  out  to  the  death. 

After  a  pause  Louvois  spoke.  His  mouth  dilat/cd  with  a 
cruel  smile,  which,  when  its  mocking  light  was  seen,  beto- 
kened peril  to  those  who  offended  him. 

"  Madame,"  said  he,  "  not  only  has  La  Voisin  been  arrested, 
but  her  private  papers  have  been  seized. "  So  saying,  he  bowed 
again  and  disappeared  behind  the  portiere. 


THE  LABORATORY.  5 

CHAPTER  n. 
THE  LABORATORY. 

The  countess  listened  to  his  echoing  footsteps  until  they 
were  no  longer  audible,  nor  did  she  move  until  she  heard  the 
roll  of  the  carriage  which  bore  him  away. 

Gradually  the  sound  of  the  receding  vehicle  melted  into 
distance,  and  a  deep  silence  ensued.  This  sUence  first  roused 
the  countess  from  her  lethargy.  A  tremor  convvdsed  her 
limbs ;  her  dilated  orbs  which  had  been  fixed  upon  the  door 
relaxed,  and  wandered  from  the  silken  hangings  of  the  walls 
to  the  gilded  furniture  around  her;  from  the  tables  of  Flor- 
entine marble  to  the  rainbow-tinted  chandeliers,  whose 
pendants  swayed  to  and  fro  in  the  sunshine.  And  now 
they  rested  dreamily  upon  a  picture  which,  conspicuous 
for  size  and  beauty,  hung  immediately  opposite  to  the  sofa 
whereon  she  was  reclining.  It  was  the  full  length  por- 
trait of  a  handsome  youth.  He  was  not  tall,  but  he  was 
gracefully  proportioned.  His  shoulders  were  broad;  and, 
rising  from  the  midst  of  a  slender  throat,  adorned  with 
a  fall  of  lace,  appeared  his  stately  head  crowned  with  a 
wealth  of  long,  brown  curls.  His  face  was  of  a  beautiful 
oval,  his  complexion  clear,  his  mouth  wreathed  with  happy 
smiles.  The  brow  was  high  and  arched,  and  the  fine  gray 
eyes  beamed  with  hope  and  energy.  In  one  hand  he  held 
a  rose,  which  he  extended  to  a  person  not  represented  in 
the  picture;  the  other  hand,  half-veiled  by  its  overhanging 
fall  of  gossamer  lace,  rested  carelessly  on  the  table,  while 
close  by  lay  two  rose-buds,  which  seemed  just  to  have  been 
dropped  from  the  half-open  fingers.  Over  an  arm-chair  in 
the  background  was  thrown  a  mantle  of  royal  ermine,  which 
partially  concealed  the  kingly  crown  that  surmounted  its 
high  carved  back. 

The  eyes  of  the  countess  were  fixed  upon  this  picture  with 
an  expression  of  tender  sadness,  and  slowly,  as  if  yielding  to 
an  influence  altogether  objective,  she  rose  from  her  seat  and 
advanced  toward  the  portrait,  where  she  remained  gazing 


6  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

until  her  sight  was  dimmed  by  tears,  while  the  youth  smiled 
ever,  and  ever  held  out  the  rose. 

What  golden  tribute  had  his  homage  brought  to  her  am- 
bition! What  ecstasy  had  it  poured  into  her  heart!  How 
truly  had  she  loved  that  princely  boy,  who,  careless,  happy, 
and  fickle,  was  bestowing  upon  other  women  the  roses  which 
for  her  had  withered  years  ago,  leaving  upon  their  blighted 
stems  the  sharp  and  cruel  thorns  of  his  inconstancy ! 

Since  then,  twenty-three  years  had  gone  by ;  she  had  be- 
come a  wife  and  the  mother  of  seven  children,  but  the  wound 
still  festered ;  the  old  sorrow  still  sang  its  mournful  dirge  with- 
in a  heart  which  to-day  beat  as  wildly  as  ever,  and  felt  a  pang 
as  keen  as  when  it  first  grew  jealous,  and  learned  that  not  she» 
but  Marie,  had  become  the  divinity  whom  Louis  worshipped. 

Marie,  too,  had  been  forsaken,  and  had  stifled  the  cries  of 
her  despairing  heart  by  marriage  with  another.  The  fate  of 
both  sisters  had  been  the  same — a  short  dream  of  gratified  am- 
bition, followed  by  long  years  of  humiliation.  It  seemed  that 
the  prosperity  and  happiness  of  Cardinal  Mazarin's  nieces  had 
been  coexistent  with  his  life,  for  when  the  eyes  of  their  uncle 
closed  in  death,  the  light  of  their  fortimes  grew  dim  and  ex- 
pired. 

The  portrait  of  Louis  XIV.,  which  was  calling  up  the  spec- 
tres of  so  many  buried  joys,  had  been  painted  expressly  for 
Olympia  Mancini.  It  represented  his  first  declaration  of  love 
to  her,  and  had  been  sent  as  a  souvenir  of  "  the  brightest  hour 
of  his  life."  He  had  barely  reached  his  thirty-seventh  year, 
and  yet  this  winsome  youth  had  been  transformed  into  a  de- 
mure devotee,  who,  despising  the  vanities  of  the  world,  had 
turned  his  heart  toward  heaven,  and  spent  his  life  doing  pen- 
ance for  the  sins  of  his  early  manhood ! 

And  this  transformation  was  the  work  of  a  woman  who 
had  neither  beauty,  youth,  nor  birth  to  recommend  her  to  the 
favor  of  a  monarch — a  woman  who  ha  i  been  the  paid  govern- 
ess of  the  king's  bastards,  and  was  not  even  gifted  with  intel- 
lect enough  to  cover  her  other  deficiencies ! 

These  last  thoughts  brought  a  smile  to  the  face  of  the 
countess.  Turning  suddenly  away  from  the  portrait  she 
crossed  the  room  with  rapid  steps,  and  placed  herself  directly 


THE  LABORATORY.  7 

in  front  of  a  large  Venetian  mirror  which  occupied  the  space 
between  two  windows.  It  gave  back  the  reflection  of  an  ex- 
quisite figure,  whose  outlines  contributed  much  to  the  grace 
with  which  the  folds  of  a  blue  satin  dress  fell  in  rich  profusion 
around  it.  The  white  shoulders  were  scarcely  concealed  by  a 
shawl  of  superb  lace,  and  the  arms,  still  roimd,  were  set  ofi:'  by 
costly  bracelets.  The  raven  hair,  with  not  a  trace  of  time's 
finger  to  discolor  its  glossy  blackness,  fell  around  her  face  in 
curls  as  delicate  as  the  tendrils  of  a  grape.  Her  brow  was 
smooth  and  polished,  her  eyes  aglow  with  passionate  longing, 
and,  as  her  lips  curved  into  a  complacent  smile,  they  disclosed 
two  rows  of  pearly  teeth,  compact  and  without  a  fleck. 

Yes,  she  was  not  deceived.  Olympia  de  Soissons  was  a 
handsome  woman,  and  with  so  much  comeliness,  such  ready 
wit,  and  such  unrivalled  powers  of  conversation,  she  might 
gird  up  her  loins  to  do  battle  with  her  rivals.  Was  not  Madame 
de  Maintenon  her  elder  by  three  years?  And  as  for  De  Montes- 
pan,  was  she  not  wasting  away  into  an  old  woman?  If  they 
had  found  it  possible  to  win  the  heart  of  this  sensual  Louis, 
why  not  she  ?  This  heart  had  once  been  all  her  own,  and  why 
should  not  she,  who  combined  the  beauty  of  one  mistress  with 
the  shrewdness  of  the  other,  dispossess  them  both,  and  re-enter 
into  possession  of  her  old  domains  ? 

She  smiled  again,  and  saw  how  well  her  smiles  became 
her.  "Yes,"  said  she  to  herself,  "yes,  I  will  recall  this  truant 
merlin,  and  he  shall  return  to  perch  upon  the  hand  he  used  to 
love  1  I  will  be  mistress  of  his  heart  and  mistress  of  his  realms. 
She  foretold  it  all,  and  gave  me  the  charm  wherewith  to  work 
the  speU." 

But  as  she  gave  utterance  to  these  last  words,  her  lips  began 
to  quiver,  and  her  fine  features  were  distorted  by  some  sudden 
pain.  She  had  just  called  to  mind  the  fearful  intelligence  of 
La  Voisin's  arrest. 

"  Great  God  !  If  my  letters  should  have  been  found  among 
her  papers  !    What,  oh  what  would  be  my  fate  ? " 

She  shuddered — and  in  place  of  the  triumphant  vision  of  a 
heart  recaptured,  a  monarch  at  her  feet,  there  arose  the  fear- 
ful spectacle  of  an  execution  which,  four  years  before,  she  had 
witneiMd  at  the  bloody  Place  de  Grdve.  Once  more  she  saw 
2 


8  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

the  square,  black  with  a  mass  of  human  bemgs,  who,  jeering, 
shouting,  and  cursing,  moved  hither  and  thither  like  the  waves 
of  a  turbulent  ocean ;  at  every  window  that  looked  out  upon 
the  place,  she  saw  gayly-dressed  ladies  who  peered  anxiously 
out  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  one  gloomy  object  that  loomed 
darkly  up  from  its  centre.  She  saw  the  crowd  give  way  and 
part,  as,  keeping  pace  with  the  dull  sound  of  a  muffled  drum, 
a  sad  procession  entered  upon  tbe  scene.  At  its  head  marched 
a  battalion  of  soldiers,  and  behind  them,  seated  in  the  felon's 
cart,  came  a  pale,  beautiful  woman,  who  ever  and  anon  pressed 
to  her  quivering  lips  the  crucifix  held  out  to  her  by  a  priest 
— that  last  link  of  sympathy  between  the  convict  and  his  fel- 
low-creatures. At  the  criminars  side,  in  symbolic  robes  of  san- 
guinary red,  was  the  executioner  that  was  to  sever  this  slender 
tie,  and  wrench  the  spirit  from  the  body  to  whose  guardian- 
ship God  had  committed  it  on  earth.  Silently  the  hideous 
cortege  moved  on,  while  the  crowd  fell  back  to  let  it  pass,  until 
the  scaffold  came  to  view.  How  joyously  the  sun's  rays 
seemed  to  play  around  the  glittering  axe  that  was  to  end  a 
career  of  secret  crime  !  How  eagerly  the  high-born  dames 
bend  forward  to  catch  sight  of  the  criminal,  as,  leaning  on  the 
arm  of  the  priest,  she  tottered  to  her  doom !  Olympia  remem- 
bered only  too  well  the  moment  when  the  drum  ceased  its 
*'  discordant  sound,"  and  when  the  silence  was  so  oppressive 
that  the  low  voice  of  the  condemned  was  heard  uttering  her 
last  prayer.  She  knelt  beside  the  block — a  circle  of  light  was 
described  upon  the  air— and  the  head  fell  upon  the  blood-be- 
sprinkled sand. 

The  Countess  de  Soissons  sickened  as  she  remembered  that 
the  woman  whom  she  had  seen  executed  was  one  of  high  po- 
sition, no  less  a  personage  than  the  beautiful  and  fascinating 
Marquise  de  Brinvilliers.  Neither  her  rank,  her  charms,  nor 
the  strenuous  efforts  of  her  powerful  friends,  had  been  ade- 
quate to  save  her  from  the  headsman's  axe.  She  had  been 
convicted  of  poisoning,  and  had  shared  the  fate  of  other  male- 
factors of  less  repute.  Her  confidante  La  Voisin  had  been 
arrested  at  the  time,  but  as  nothing  proved  her  to  have  been  an 
accomplice  of  her  former  mistress  she  had  escaped  conviction. 

Something  new  with  regard  to  the  fortune-teller  must  have 


THE  LABORATORY.  9 

transpired,  for  Louvois  had  considered  her  arrest  as  an  ill- 
omen  for  the  Countess  de  Soissons.  Not  only  for  Olympia, 
however,  was  the  arrest  of  Catherine  a  calamity,  for  she  was 
the  trusty  counsellor  of  many  a  noble  lady  who,  before  sus- 
picion had  sullied  her  name,  had  been  the  dear  and  intimate 
associate  of  the  Marquise  de  Brinvilliers. 

The  countess  had  turned  away  from  the  contemplation  of 
her  mellow  charms,  and  was  on  her  way  to  her  boudoir.  She 
bolted  the  door  within,  and,  crossing  the  room,  mounted  a 
chair  that  stood  by  the  side  of  a  tall  mirror  set  in  a  thick  gilt 
frame.  She  touched  a  spring,  when  the  mirror  glided  noise- 
lessly aside,  revealing  a  dark  recess  within  the  wall. 

Olympia  slipped  through  the  opening,  which  closed  behind 
her,  darted  up  a  narrow  staircase,  and,  hastily  drawing  a  key 
from  a  pocket  concealed  within  the  folds  of  her  dress,  she  un- 
locked the  door  of  a  room  whose  aspect  was  anything  but  ap- 
propriate to  the  pursuits  of  a  lady  of  quality. 

It  was  to  all  appearances  a  kitchen,  for  one  entire  side  of  it 
was  occupied  by  a  hearth  full  of  recesses,  each  one  of  which 
contained  a  furnace  fitted  up  with  iron  utensils  for  cooking. 
On  the  mantel,  which  corresponded  to  this  immense  hearth, 
were  ranged  pipkins  and  other  vessels  of  different  sizes,  inter- 
spersed with  rows  of  phials  and  flasks  containing  liquids  of 
every  imaginable  color.  On  a  massive  oaken  table,  in  the 
centre  of  the  apartment,  were  placed  a  number  of  bowls  and 
dishes,  and  near  them  lay  a  disorderly  pile  of  papers,  books, 
and  pamphlets. 

Olympia  approached  the  hearth,  stooped  over  one  of  the 
furnaces,  and  from  a  fagot  lying  near  gathered  a  few  small 
sticks.  Over  these  sticks  she  poured  a  fluid  from  one  of  her 
flasks,  and  then  rubbing  them  briskly  together,  they  began  to 
emit  sparks.  She  placed  them  under  the  furnace,  added  a  lit* 
tie  more  fuel,  and  in  a  '"^w  moments  had  a  good  fire. 

She  now  sprang  to  her  feet,  and  hastily  pushing  aside  a 
row  of  pipkins,  opened  a  small  door  which  had  been  concealed 
behind  them,  above  the  mantel.  From  a  recess  within  the 
wall  she  took  a  brass-bound  casket,  which  she  placed  upon  the 
table. 

The  casket  contained  some  books,  papers,  and  several  di* 


10  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

minutive  pliials.  One  of  these  phials  she  held  up  to  the  light, 
contemplating  its  contents  with  manifest  satisfaction. 

"  Herein  lies  the  spell  that  is  to  lure  my  faithless  monarch 
hack  again.  La  Voisin  may  rot  in  prison,  but  her  mantle  of 
science  has  fallen  upon  me,  and  her  secrets  are  mine.  Her 
last,  best  gift  shall  restore  me  to  my  throne.  Not  only  did  she 
leave  me  the  means  of  success,  but  she  foretold  the  certainty 
of  that  success  besides.  It  must  be  so :  La  Voisin  never  erred 
in  her  predictions,  and  I  shall  triumph !  " 

Pressing  the  phial  to  her  lips,  Olympia  hid  it  beneath  the 
folds  of  her  lace  tucker,  murmuring  the  while,  "  I  shall  sip  of 
this  nectar  anon;  for  the  present,  I  must  provide  for  dis- 
covery." 

She  took  the  papers  that  lay  in  the  casket,  and  weighing 
them  in  her  hand  said  musingly: 

*'  How  light  they  are,  and  yet  how  heavy  was  the  gold  with 
which  I  purchased  them!  'Tis  a  pity  they  should  be  de- 
stroyed :  what  if  I  should  forget  ?  But  no !  oblivion  of  their 
treasured  secrets  were  impossible  to  me;  so  away  with  you! 
You  might  turn  traitors,  and  I  had  best  anticipate  treachery  by 
destruction." 

Then  followed  the  books  and  the  contents  of  the  phials  re- 
maining in  the  casket.  The  blue  flames  leaped  high  as  these 
last  were  added  to  the  cremation,  and  the  room  became  op- 
pressive with  their  unwholesome  vapor. 

"  The  window  must  be  opened,"  said  Olympia.  "  This  odor 
might  betray  me.  People  might  suspect  me  of  having  cooked 
arsenic  in  my  kitchen  -instead  of  onions." 

With  these  words  she  opened  the  casement,  and  the  nox- 
ious cloud  passed  slowly  out  into  the  air. 

"  Now  all  is  safe.  Louvois  can  send  as  many  bailiffs  as  he 
lists,  and  should  they  poke  their  inquisitive  noses  into  my 
sanctum,  they  will  find  nothing  for  their  pains  but  an  innocent 
laboratory  wherein  the  Countess  de  Soissons  prepares  her 
cosmetics,  and  makes  experiments  in  the  chemistry  of  the 
toilet." 

She  replaced  her  casket,  searched  the  mantel  carefully,  and 
then  glanced  sharply  around  the  room  to  assure  herself  that 
she  was  alone  and  undiscovered. 


THE  LABORATORY.  H 

Yes!  Alone,  the  witnesses  of  her  guilt  consumed,  and 
their  ashes  etherealized  throughout  space. 

The  countess  smiled,  and,  as  she  locked  the  door  of  her 
laboratory,  her  spirits  revived  and  her  thoughts  once  more  re- 
verted to  the  ambitious  dreams  of  the  morning.  When  she 
had  reached  her  boudoir  again,  and  the  complaisant  mirror 
had  resumed  its  place,  she  drew  the  flask  from  her  bosom,  re- 
moved the  glass  stopper,  inhaled  for  a  moment  its  perfume, 
and  then,  raising  it  to  her  lips,  drained  the  contents  to  their 
last  drop. 

"And  this  philter  is  to  make  me  mistress  of  your  heart, 
King  Louis  I    How  I  long  to  begin  my  reign  I " 

A  slight  rustling  was  heard  outside,  and  the  guilty  woman 
trembled  anew.  She  concealed  the  phial,  and  listened  breath- 
lessly, while  her  straining  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  door  as 
though  they  had  hoped  to  see  through  its  panels  of  oak 
whether  friend  or  foe  stood  without. 

A  slight  knock  was  heard,  and  now,  in  spite  of  herself,  the 
Countess  de  Soissons  grew  pale  and  shivered.  What  if  the 
myrmidons  of  Louvois  had  come  with  a  lettre  de  cachet! 
What  if — No !  not  even  he  would  go  so  far  in  his  enmity  to 
the  niece  of  the  great  cardinal,  the  relative  of  the  reigning 
Duke  of  Savoy,  and  the  daughter-in-law  of  the  Princess  Ca- 
Hgnan. 

So  she  summoned  resolution  enough  to  cross  the  room, 
draw  back  the  bolt,  and  to  say  in  a  loud,  imperious  tone  : 
"Omein." 

The  door  opened,  and  admitted  a  young  man.  The  count- 
ess no  sooner  recognized  him  than  she  smiled,  and,  with  a 
slight  elevation  of  her  shoulders,  said,  "Nobody  but  you." 

"Nobody  but  me,"  replied  the  youth,  sadly.  "I  come  to 
ask  of  my  gracious  mother  an  interview." 


12  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

CHAPTER  m. 

PRINCE   EUGENE. 

The  countess  inclined  her  head  in  token  of  assent ;  but,  as 
she  did  so,  her  eyes  rested  on  the  diminutive  form  of  her  son 
with  an  expression  that  savored  of  disdain.  The  look  was  un- 
motherly,  and  seemed  to  say,  "  How  can  a  man  of  such  insig- 
nificant appearance  be  the  son  of  the  stately  Countess  de  Sois- 
sons  ? " 

And  indeed  to  a  careless  observer  the  words  were  not  inap- 
propriate to  his  dwarfish  proportions.  His  head,  which,  be- 
tween his  excessively  wide  shoulders,  was  perched  upon  the 
top  of  a  very  long  neck,  was  too  large,  much  too  large  for  his 
body.  His  face  was  narrow,  his  complexion  swarthy,  his  sal- 
low cheeks  high  and  sunken.  A  nose  slightly  turned  up,  gave 
an  expression  of  boldness  to  his  countenance,  increased  by  the 
shortness  of  his  upper  lip,  which  exposed  to  view  two  large  front 
teeth  that  were  almost  ferocious  in  their  size.  On  either  side 
of  his  high,  narrow  forehead,  his  hair,  instead  of  being  worn 
according  to  the  prevailing  fashion,  was  suffered  to  fall  in 
long  elf-locks  about  his  ears.  Notwithstanding  all  these  dis- 
advantages, his  eyes  were  so  superlatively  beautiful  that  they 
almost  persuaded  you  into  the  belief  that  he  was  handsome. 
From  their  lustrous  depths  there  streamed  a  meteoric  splendor, 
which,  more  than  words,  revealed  the  genius,  the  enthusiasm, 
and  the  noble  soul  to  which  Nature  had  assigned  such  un- 
worthy corporality. 

Those  speaking  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  countess  in  tender 
sadness,  while,  in  a  respectful  attitude  near  the  door,  he  awaited 
her  permission  to  approach. 

She  languidly  extended  her  hand,  and,  Eugene  coming  for- 
ward, bent  over  and  imprinted  upon  it  a  heartfelt  kiss. 

"  My  dear  mother  then  consents  ? "  said  he,  humbly. 

"I  know  of  no  reason  why  I  should  refuse,"  replied  the 
countess,  carelessly.  "  Neither  am  I  able  to  divine  wherefore 
you  make  your  request  in  a  tone  of  such  unusual  solemnity. 
One  would  suppose  that  the  little  abbe  has  come  to  invite  his 


PRINCE  EUGENE.  13 

mother  to  a  confession  of  her  sins,  so  portentous  is  his  de- 
meanor." 

"Would  I  could  receive  that  confession,"  exclaimed  he, 
earnestly  ;  "  would  I  could  look  into  my  mother's  heart  and 
read  the  secrets  there  I " 

"Indeed!  and  have  you  come  hither  to  catechise  your 
mother,  then  ? "  said  the  countess,  with  a  frown. 

"  No,  dear  mother,  no,"  cried  Eugene,  eagerly  ;  "  I  have 
come  to  ask  of  you  whether  I  may  walk  with  head  erect  be- 
fore the  world,  or  whether  I  must  die  because  of  our  dis- 
honor ?" 

"  An  extraordinary  alternative  to  present  for  my  decision, 
certainly  ;  and  I  confess  that  I  am  very  curious  to  learn  how 
it  happens  that  I  can  assist  you  in  your  dilemma.  Speak,  then, 
and  I  will  listen." 

With  these  words  the  countess  threw  herself  indolently 
into  an  arm-chair,  and  motioned  Eugene  to  a  seat.  But  he 
only  advanced  a  step  or  two,  and  gazed  wistfully  upon  her 
handsome,  hardened  face. 

"  Mother,"  said  he,  in  a  low,  husky  voice,  "  the  soothsayer 
La  Voisin  has  been  arrested." 

"  Ah  I  ^hat  else  ? "  asked  the  countess,  with  perfect  com- 
posure. 

"Her  house  is  guarded,  every  comer  has  been  searched, 
and  her  papers  have  all  been  seized." 

"  And  what  else  ? "  repeated  the  countess. 

Her  son  looked  up,  and  a  ray  of  hope  shot  athwart  his  pale 
and  anxious  face.  "  Nothing  is  talked  of  in  Paris,"  continued 
he, "  but  the  strange  revelations  connected  with  her  arrest.  It 
is  said  that  she  not  only  drew  the  horoscope  of  those  who  were 
accustomed  to  visit  her,  and  gave  them  philters,  but— but — " 

*'  But,"  echoed  the  countess  as  her  son  paused. 

**  But  that  she  prepared  secret  poisons,  one  of  which,  called 
*  La  pottdre  de  succession,^  was  specially  designed  for  the  use 
of  those  who  wished  to  remove  an  inconvenient  relative." 

This  time  the  countess  was  silent ;  her  brow  contracted, 
and  she  shivered  perceptibly. 

An  involuntary  cry  burst  from  the  lips  of  her  son,  which 
recalled  her  to  a  sense  of  her  imprudence. 


14:  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

"  What  ails  you  ? "  asked  she,  abruptly.  "  Have  you  seen 
a  ghost,  that  you  cry  out  in  a  voice  so  unearthly  ? " 

"Yes,  mother,  I  have  seen  a  ghost — the  ghost  of  my 
father  ! "  And  while  the  countess  grew  pale,  and  her  eyes  di- 
lated with  fear,  her  unhappy  son  sank  upon  his  knees  before 
her,  and  clasped  his  hands  with  agony  of  apprehension. 

"  Mother,  have  mercy  on  me,  and  forgive  me  if,  in  the  an- 
guish of  my  writhing  soul,  I  ask  you  whether  you  are  inno- 
cent of  my  father's  death  ? " 

"  Has  any  one  dared  to  accuse  me  ? "  asked  she,  with  a 
scowl. 

"  Ay !  And  so  publicly,  that  men  spoke  of  it  together  as  I 
passed  them  in  the  streets  to-day.  Need  I  say  that  I  was  ready 
to  die  of  grief  as  I  heard  the  epithet  of  murderess  applied  to 
the  mother  who  to  me  has  been  the  ideal  of  beauty,  goodness, 
and  excellence,  which  my  heart  has  worshipped  to  the  exclu- 
sion of  all  other  loves!  My  brain  was  on  fire  as  I  dashed 
through  the  scornful  crowd,  and  made  my  way  to  you,  mother, 
here  to  look  upon  your  dear  face,  and  read  in  your  eyes  your 
innocence  of  the  hideous  crime.  We  are  alone  with  God  :  in 
mercy  tell  me,  are  you  innocent  or  guilty  ? " 

As  he  raised  his  face  to  hers,  the  countess  saw  there  such 
powerful  love  struggling  with  his  anguish,  that  her  heart  was 
touched,  and  the  angry  words  she  had  meditated  died  upon 
her  lips. 

"  These  are  cruel  doubts  wherewith  to  assail  your  mother, 
Eugene,"  said  she,  after  a  pause.  ""Follow  me,  and  in  the 
presence  of  your  forefathers  you  shall  be  answered." 

With  a  lofty  bend  of  the  head,  she  left  the  room,  followed 
by  her  stricken  child.  They  crossed  a  spacious  hall,  and  trav- 
ersed one  after  another  the  apartments  of  state  which  were 
thrown  open  to  guests  on  occasions  of  great  ceremony,  and 
led  to  the  grand  hall  of  reception.  At  the  farther  end  of  this 
hall,  under  a  canopy  of  purple  velvet,  surmounted  by  a  ducal 
crown,  were  the  two  thrones  which,  on  the  days  of  these  state 
receptions,  the  Count  and  Countess  de  Soissons  were  privileged 
to  occupy  in  presence  of  their  guests,  provided  his  majesty 
were  not  of  the  number.  This  right  they  held  by  virtue  of 
their  connection  with  the  royal  house  of  France,  and  their 


PRINCE  EUGENE.  15 

close  relationship  to  the  Duke  of  Savoy.  At  the  time  of  the 
marriage  of  his  niece  with  the  Count  de  Soissons,  Cardinal 
"Mazarin  had  obtained  from  Louis  XIV.  an  acknowledgment 
of  her  husband  as  a  prince  of  the  blood,  and,  by  virtue  of  this 
acknowledgment,  his  right  to  attend  without  invitation  all 
court  festivities,  to  appear  at  the  public  and  private  levees  of 
the  king,  and  in  his  own  palace  to  sit  upon  a  throne. 

On  either  side  of  the  throne-room  of  the  Hotel  de  Soissons 
were  ranged  the  portraits  of  their  ancestors,  in  armor,  in  ducal 
or  episcopal  robes,  in  doublet  and  hose,  or  in  flowing  wigs. 
Silently  the  mother  and  son  walked  by  the  stately  effigies  of 
princes  and  princesses,  until  they  had  reached  the  farthest 
portrait  there. 

With  outstretched  arms  the  countess  pointed  to  the  like- 
ness of  a  hfmdsome  man,  clad  in  a  rich  court-suit,  which  well 
became  his  aristocratic  figure.  As  he  gazed  upon  the  pleasant 
€mile  that  illumined  a  face  expressive  of  exceeding  goodness, 
the  eyes  of  young  Eugene  filled  with  tears. 

His  mother  surveyed  him  with  a  curl  of  her  lip. 

"  Tears !  "  said  she.  "  And  yet  you  stand  before  the  portrait 
s>f  your  father,  whom  you  accuse  me  of  having  murdered  I " 

"  No,  no,"  cried  her  son,  eagerly,  "  I  did  not  accuse,  I — I — ** 

"You  inquired,"  interrupted  the  countess,  disdainfully. 
**  And  by  your  inquiry  you  insinuate  that  such  a  crime  by  the 
hand  of  your  mother  was  not  only  possible,  but  probable." 

"  Unhappily,  I  have  more  than  once  seen  La  Voisin  in  your 
boudoir,  mother." 

The  countess  affected  not  to  hear.  "Then  a  son  considers 
himself  justifiable  in  asking  of  his  mother  whether  or  not  she 
poisoned  his  father;  he  should  do  so  with  the  sword  of  justice 
in  his  hand,  not  with  an  eyelid  that  trembles  with  cowardly 
tears." 

"  Mother,  have  pity  on  me,"  sobbed  Eugene,  throwing  him- 
self at  her  feet.  "  Do  not  answer  my  cruel  question,  for  I  read 
your  innocence  in  the  noble  scorn  that  flashes  from  your  eye, 
and  beams  from  every  feature  of  your  dear,  truthful  face. 
Pardon  me,  beloved  mother;  pardon  your  repentant  child." 

"  No,  I  shall  not  pardon  the  poltroon  who,  believing  that 
his  mother  has  disgraced  his  escutcheon,  weeps  like  a  woman 


16  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

over  wrongs  which  he  should  avenge  like  a  man.  But  I  for- 
got. The  little  abbe  of  Savoy  is  not  accustomed  to  wear  a 
sword ;  his  weapon  is  the  missal.  Go,  then,  to  your  prayers, 
and  when  you  pray  for  your  father's  soul,  ask  forgiveness  of 
God  for  your  heartless  and  ungrateful  conduct  to  his  widow." 

"  Dear,  dear  mother,  have  pity  I "  sobbed  Eugene,  still  kneel- 
ing at  her  feet. 

"  Was  there  any  pity  in  your  heart  for  me  when  you  asked 
that  shameful  question  ? " 

"I  was  demented,"  cried  he;  "maddened  by  the  sneers 
that  were  flung  at  me  in  the  streets  to-day." 

"  And,  to  console  yourself,  you  joined  in  the  popular  cry. 
'  Voxpopuli  vox  Deij^  I  suppose,  is  your  pious  motto." 

"  Mother ! "  cried  Eugene,  springing  to  his  feet,  "  crush  me, 
if  you  will,  under  the  weight  of  your  anger,  but  do  not  stretch 
me  upon  the  rack  of  your  scorn.  I  am  no  devotee ;  and,  if  the 
king,  my  family,  and  yourself,  are  forcing  me  into  a  career 
which  is  repugnant  to  every  instinct  of  my  manhood,  pity  me, 
if  you  will,  but  do  not  insult  me." 

"Pity  you!"  sneered  the  countess.  "I  am  a  woman;  but 
he  who  would  venture  to  pity  me,  would  receive  my  glove  in 
his  face  for  his  insolence.  Go,  faint  heart !  You  are  fit  for 
nothing  but  a  whining  priest,  for  there  is  not  a  spark  of  man- 
hood within  your  sluggish  breast.  No  generous  blood  of  the 
princes  of  Savoy  mantles  in  your  sallow  cheek;  'tis  the  ichor- 
ous fluid  of  the  churchman  Mazarin  that — " 

"  Mother ! "  thundered  Eugene,  with  a  force  that  gave  the 
lie  to  her  derisive  words — "  mother,  you  shall  go  no  further  in 
your  disdain  of  me,  for  the  blood  of  Savoy  is  seething  within 
my  veins,  and  I  may,  perchance,  forget  that  she  who  so  af- 
fronts my  father's  son,  is  my  mother ! " 

"  You  have  already  forgotten,"  replied  the  countess,  coldly. 
"My  answer  to  your  infamous  charge  shall  be  made  not  to 
you,  but  to  your  ancestors." 

So  saying,  she  bent  her  steps  toward  the  ducal  throne,  and 
seating  herself  thereon,  addressed  her  son : 

"Eugene  of  Savoy,  Prince  of  Carignan,  Bourbon,  and 
Piedmont,  bend  your  knee  before  the  mother  that  bore  you, 
and  hearken  to  her  words." 


PRINCE  EUGENE.  17 

The  prince  obeyed,  and  knelt  at  the  foot  of  the  throne. 

The  countess  raised  her  arm,  and  pointed  to  the  portraits 
that  hung  around.  "  You  have  been  witnesses,"  said  she,  ad- 
dressing them  all,  "  to  the  outrage  which  has  been  put  upon 
me  to-day  by  him  who  inherits  your  name,  but  not  your  worth. 
If  I  am  the  guilty  wretch  which  he  has  pronounced  me  to  be, 
strike  me  to  the  earth  for  my  crimes,  and  justify  his  parrici- 
dal words.  But  you  know  that  I  am  innocent,  and  that,  with 
bitter  tears,  I  lamented  the  death  of  my  murdered  husband !  '* 

"Murdered I"  exclaimed  Eugene.  "It  is,  then,  true  that 
he  was  murdered  ? " 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  countess,  "  he  was  murdered,  but  not  by 
bowl  or  dagger." 

With  these  words,  she  rose,  and,  slowly  descending  from 
her  throne,  she  returned  to  the  spot  which  she  had  left,  and 
gazed  mournfully  upon  her  husband's  portrait.  "He  was  a 
noble,  brave,  and  gallant  prince,"  said  she,  softly.  "  He  loved 
me  unspeakably,  and  wherefore  should  I  have  taken  the  life 
of  him  whose  whole  pleasure  lay  in  ministering  to  my  happi- 
ness ?  What  could  I  gain  by  the  death  of  the  dearest  friend  I 
ever  had  ?  Ah,  never  would  he  have  mistrusted  his  Olympia  I 
Had  the  envious  rabble  of  Paris  defamed  me  while  he  lived  to 
defend  my  honor,  it  is  not  your  father,  Prince  Eugene,  that 
would  have  joined  my  traducers  and  outraged  my  woman- 
hood, as  you  have  done  to-day ! " 

"  Forgave  me,"  murmured  the  prince. 

"  Yes,  my  beloved,"  continued  she,  addressing  the  picture, 
"they  accuse  me  of  murdering  thee,  because  they  seek  my 
ruin  as  they  compassed  thine." 

"  Who,  dear  mother,  who  ? "  cried  Eugene,  passionately. 
"Who  are  the  fiends  that  murdered  my  father  and  calum- 
niate my  mother  ? " 

"They  are  Louis  XIV.,"  exclaimed  the  countess,  "his 
minister  Louvois,  and  his  two  mistresses,  De  Montespan  and 
De  Maintenon." 

"  The  king  I "  echoed  Eugene,  in  a  voice  of  such  fury,  that 
his  mother  turned  her  eyes  from  the  portrait,  and  stared  at 
him  with  amazement. 

"  You  hate  the  king  ? "  said  she,  hurriedly. 


18  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

"  Yes,"  said  Eugene,  Ms  eyes  flashing  fire ;  "  yes,  I  hate 
him." 

"  And  why  ? " 

"  Do  not  ask  me,  mother;  I  dare  not  say  wherefore  I  hate 
the  king." 

"  Then  I  will  tell  you  why.  You  hate  him  because  you  be- 
lieve the  scandalous  reports  which  my  enemies  have  spread 
throughout  Europe  as  regards  my  relations,  in  years  gone  by, 
with  Louis.  You  believe  that  your  mother  was  once  the 
king's  mistress,  and  that,  to  hide  her  shame,  she  borrowed  the 
name  of  the  Count  de  Soissons." 

Eugene  made  no  reply. 

"  Ah,  why  have  I  no  son  to  shelter  me  from  these  infamous 
suspicions!  Why  must  I  live  and  die  under  such  false  and 
disgraceful  imputations  ? " 

"  Then,  it  is  not  true  ? "  cried  Eugene,  joyfully.  "  You  did 
not  love  the  king,  mother  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  did  love  him,"  said  she,  calmly,  "and  loved  him  as 
an  Italian  alone  can  love." 

Eugene  groaned,  and  covered  his  face  with  his  hands. 

"  I  do  not  deny  the  love,"  continued  the  countess,  "  for  it 
was  all  the  work  of  Cardinal  Mazarin.  He  brought  me  from 
Italy,  and  bade  me  win  the  king's  heart  and  become  a 
queen ;  and  when  he  did  so  he  added  a  recommendation  to  me 
to  be  a  good,  dutiful  niece,  and  never  to  forget  who  it  was 
had  helped  me  to  a  crown.  I  saw  the  youth  whom  the  car- 
dinal desired  me  to  love  :  the  handsomest,  wittiest,  and  most 
accomplished  cavalier  in  France.  I  obeyed  but  too  willingly, 
and  Louis  became  the  idol  of  my  life." 

"  Then  it  is  true  that  my  mother  was  beloved  by  the  king  ?  '* 
said  Eugene,  sternly. 

"  Beloved  by  him,  but  never  his  mistress  ! "  returned  the 
countess,  proudly.  "  Yes,  he  loved  me  as  I  did  him,  with  the 
trust,  the  strength,  the  passion,  that  are  characteristic  of  a  first 
love.  I  was  ambitious  for  him  as  well  as  for  myself,  and 
would  have  had  him  a  monarch  in  deed  as  well  as  in  name. 
I  led  him  away  from  the  frivolous  regions  of  indolent  enjoy- 
ment to  the  starry  realms  of  poetry,  art,  and  science  ;  and,  had 
Louis  ever  risen  to  the  fame  of  Numa,  I  should  have  merited 


PRINCE  EUGENE.  19 

that  of  Egeria.  But  this  conflicted  with  the  amhition  of  the 
cardinal.  He  had  no  sooner  comprehended  the  nature  of  the 
influence  I  exerted  over  his  royal  tool,  than  he  poisoned  his 
ear  by  insinuating  that  ambition,  not  love,  was  the  spring  of 
all  my  efforts  to  elevate  him  to  the  level  of  his  magnificent 
destiny.  Poor,  weak  Louis  !  He  was  anything  that  Cardinal 
Mazarin  chose  to  make  him  ;  so  at  the  word  of  command  he 
ceased  to  love,  and  went  to  make  an  offering  of  his  accom- 
modating affections  to  Marie.  She  made  him  take  an  oath 
never  to  look  at  me  again." 

"  Did  he  respect  the  oath  ? " 

"  Just  so  long  as  he  loved  Marie.  I  need  not  tell  you  that 
I  suffered  from  his  inconstancy.  I  was  inexpressibly  grieved; 
but  pride  upheld  me,  and  Louis  never  received  a  word  or  look 
of  reproach  for  his  faithlessness.  Meanwhile  your  father  of- 
fered his  hand,  and  before  I  accepted  it  he  was  made  acquaint- 
ed  with  the  history  of  my  heart.  I  concealed  nothing  from 
him,  so  that  he  was  at  once  the  confidant  of  my  past  sorrows, 
and  their  comforter." 

"Thank  you,  dear,  dear  mother,"  said  Eugene,  tenderly. 
"  In  the  name  of  all  your  children,  let  me  thank  you  for 
your  noble  candor. " 

•'  I  married  the  Prince  de  Soissons,  and  here,  in  presence  of 
his  assembled  ancestors,  I  swear  that  I  have  kept  unstained 
the  faith  I  pledged  him  at  the  marriage-altar.  Let  the  world 
belie  me  as  it  will,  Olympia  Mancini  has  ever  been  a  spotless 
wife.  So  true  is  this,  that  Louis,  when  he  had  abandoned  Marie, 
and  had  tired  of  his  queen,  returned  to  me  with  vows  of  a  love 
which  he  swore  had  been  the  only  genuine  passion  of  his  life  ; 
and  when,  as  my  husband's  loyal  wife,  I  repulsed  the  advances 
of  his  sovereign,  that  sovereign  became  my  bitterest  enemy. 
Not  even  after  he  had  consoled  himself  with  the  insipid 
charms  of  that  poor,  flimsy  creature,  La  Valli^re,  did  Louis  re- 
lent ;  his  animosity,  because  of  some  witticism  of  mine  on  the 
subject  of  his  hysterical  mistress,  has  pursued  mo  throughout 
life  ;  not  only  me,  but  every  member  of  my  family.  For  a 
mere  epigram  I  was  banished  from  Paris,  and  your  father 
stripped  of  a  lucrative  and  honorable  office.  We  managed 
after  a  time  to  return  to  court,  but  my  enemies  were  more 


20  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

powerful  than  I.  Through  the  jealousy  of  the  Marquise  de 
Montespan  I  was  a  second  time  banished  ;  but  before  we  left, 
your  father  fought  two  duels  with  noblemen  who  had  circu- 
lated the  calumnies  which  the  marquise  had  originated  concern- 
ing me.  The  Duke  de  Noailles  was  wounded,  and  the  Cheva- 
lier de  Grand  Mercy  killed.  Although  the  challenges  had 
been  honorably  sent  and  accepted,  the  Count  de  Soissons  was 
summoned  before  the  king  and  publicly  rebuked.  Oh,  let  me 
speak  no  longer  of  the  contumely  we  endured  during  those 
bitter  days  !  My  husband  died,  blessing  me,  and  cursing  the 
selfish  monarch  who  had  ruined  us  both." 

Eugene  clinched  his  hand.  "  I  shall  remember  the  curse," 
cried  he,  "  and  it  shall  be  verified  if  God  give  me  strength, 
mother ! " 

"  Yes,  avenge  us  if  you  can,  Eugene,  but,  until  the  day  of 
reckoning  come,  we  must  be  politic  and  wary.  Be  silent  and 
discreet  as  I  was,  when,  on  being  allowed  to  return  to  Paris,  I 
humbled  myself  for  my  dear  children's  sake,  and  not  only 
swore  to  write  no  more  epigrams,  but  went  in  person  to  sue  to 
Madame  de  Montespan  for  pardon  and  protection !  " 

"  Mother,  is  it  possible  !  Far  better  had  it  been  for  us  to 
die  obscurely  in  some  provincial  village,  than  purchase  our 
admission  to  court  at  the  price  of  such  humiliation  as  that  !  " 

"  No,  no — I  had  sworn  to  be  revenged  upon  my  persecutors, 
and  no  plan  of  vendetta  could  I  carry  out  in  a  provincial  vil- 
lage. Do  you  remember  what  I  told  my  sons  on  the  day  of  our 
return  to  the  Hotel  de  Soissons  ? " 

"  Ay,  mother,  that  do  I.  You  said  :  '  Bow  your  heads  in 
ostensible  humility,  but  never  forget  that  the  Bourbons  have 
robbed  you  of  your  inheritance.  Never  forget  that  if  you  are 
poor,  it  is  because  on  some  idle  pretext  of  a  conspiracy  that 
never  could  be  proved,  Louis  XIV.  sequestered  the  estates  of 
the  Counts  de  Soissons.'  These  were  your  words,  and  you  see 
that  I  have  not  forgotten  them.  They  are  the  steel  on  which 
I  have  sharpened  the  hate  I  feel  for  the  King  of  France.  And 
now  that  its  edge  is  keen,  why  may  I  not  lift  it  against  the 
man  who  belied  my  mother,  and  murdered  my  father  ?  Oh 
mother,  mother,  why  will  you  force  me  to  become  a  priest  ? " 

"  What  else  could  you  become  ? "    asked  Olympia.     "  The 


PRINCE  EUGENE.  21 

king  is  your  gxiardian,  and  he  it  is  that  from  your  childhood 
has  destined  you  for  the  church.'* 

"  I  hate  this  garb,"  exclaimed  Eugene,  touching  his  cassock. 
"My  vocation  is  not  for  the  priesthood,  and,  if  I  am  called 
upon  to  utter  compulsory  vows,  I  feel  that  I  shall  disgrace  my 
cloth.  Dear  mother,  loosen  the  detested  bonds  that  bind  me 
to  a  listless  and  contemplative  life  !  Gird  me  with  a  sword, 
and  let  me  go  out  to  battle  with  the  world  like  a  man ! " 

The  countess  looked  disdainfully^  at  the  diminutive  figure 
of  her  son,  and  raised  her  shoulders  with  contempt.  "  You  a 
soldier  ! " 

"  Yes  ! "  exclaimed  Eugene,  passionately.  "  Yes  I  My  soul 
abhors  the  cloister,  and  yearns  for  the  battle-field.  While 
you  have  fancied  that  I  was  studying  theology,  I  have  been 
poring  over  the  lives  of  great  commanders;  and,  instead  of 
preparing  my  soul  for  heaven,  I  have  trained  my  body  for 
earthly  strife.  Look  not  so  compassionately  upon  my  stature, 
mother.  This  body  is  slender,  but  'tis  the  coat  of  mail  that 
covers  an  intrepid  soul,  and  I  have  hardened  it  until  it  can  bid 
defiance  to  wind  or  weather.  With  this  arm  I  curb  the 
wildest  horse,  nor  will  its  sinews  yield  to  the  blow  of  the 
most  practised  swordsman  in  France.  I  have  studied  the 
science  of  warfare  in  books  ;  my  life  has  been  one  long  prep- 
aration for  its  practice,  and  I  cannot,  wLLl  not  relinquish 
my  day-dreams  of  glory." 

"There  is  no  help  for  it,  I  tell  you.  All  princes  of  the 
blood  are  wards  of  the  king  ;  your  royal  guardian  has  chosen 
your  profession,  and  you  must  either  submit  or  bear  the  con- 
sequences of  his  wrath." 

"  What  care  I  for  his  wrath  ?  Let  him  give  me  my  free- 
dom, and  I  will  promise  never  to  seek  my  fortune  at  his 
hands." 

"  At  all  events,  wait  for  some  favorable  opportunity  to  re- 
bel, Eugene.  We  are  poor  and  dependent  now,  and  your 
brother's  scandalous  marriage  has  forever  marred  our  hopes 
of  seeing  him  heir  to  the  duchy  of  Savoy.  To  think  of  a 
Prince  de  Carignan  uniting  himself  to  the  daughter  of  the 
equerry  of  the  Prince  de  Conde  !    What  a  disgrace  ! " 

"  My  brother  consulted  his  heart  and  not  his  escutcheon," 


23  PRINCE  EUGENE   AND  HIS  TIMES. 

replied  Eugene,  with  a  smile.  "  He  followed  the  example  of 
his  father,  and  may  God  bless  him  with  a  wife  as  beautiful  and 
as  virtuous  as  his  mother  ! " 

The  countess,  who  had  begun  to  frown  at  Eugene^s  apology 
for  his  brother,  could  not  resist  this  filial  flattery.  She  gave 
him  her  hand,  which  he  kissed  devoutly. 

''  You  no  longer  believe  me  guilty,  my  son  ? "  said  she. 
Eugene  knelt  and  murmured :  "  Pardon,  dear,  dear  mother  ! 
My  life  will  be  all  too  short  to  expiate  my  unworthy  doubts, 
and  to  avenge  your  wrongs." 

"  Avenge  them,  but  do  not  exasperate  the  king.  Imitate 
Richelieu  and  Mazarin,  and  the  priest's  gown  will  no  longer  be 
distasteful  to  you.  They  were  great  in  the  field  and  in  the 
cabinet,  and  both  possessed  more  than  regal  power,  for  both 
were  the  rulers  of  kings." 

Eugene  was  about  to  reply,  but  Olympia  raised  her  hand  in 
remonstrance,  and  continued : 

"  I  exact  of  you,  for  a  time  at  least,  apparent  submission 
and  perfect  silence.  When  the  hour  is  ripe  for  retaliation, 
you  shall  strike,  and  repay  me  for  all  that  I  have  endured  at 
the  hands  of  the  king.  But,  for  the  present,  breathe  not  the 
name  of  Louis  above  a  whisper.  I  have  a  deadlier  foe  than  he 
to  encounter  now.  Louvois,  Louvois,  I  dread  above  all  other 
men;  and  if  you  have  the  strength  of  a  man  in  your  arm, 
Eugene,  let  the  force  of  its  vengeance  fall  upon  the  head  of 
him,  whose  animosity  is  more  potent  than  that  of  all  my  other 
enemies  united." 

"  It  shall  crush  him  and  all  who  seek  to  injure  you,  mother. 
Revenge ! — yes,  revenge  for  your  wrongs,  for  my  father's  death, 
and  for  my  bondage !  " 

"  Ay,  revenge,  Eugene !  A  man  may  wear  the  garb  of  an 
ecclesiastic  with  the  heart  of  a  hero,  and  to  your  brave  heart 
these  Princes  of  Carignan  commit  my  cause!  Come,  let  us 
leave  our  ancestors  to  their  grim  repose.  May  they  lend  their 
ghostly  aid  to  the  arm  that  wields  the  carnal  weapons  of  our 
righteous  vengeance ! " 

As  she  turned  to  leave  the  gallery,  the  train  of  her  blue 
satin  dress  became  entangled  in  the  claws  of  the  lion  which 
supported  the  throne.     Eugene  stooped  hastily  to  release  it^ 


THE  RIOT.  23 

and,  instead  of  dropping  it  again,  he  smiled  affectionately  upon 
his  mother  and  placed  himself  in  the  attitude  of  a  page. 

The  countess  looked  pleased  at  the  attention,  and  said, 
*'  Have  you  learned,  among  your  other  accomplishments,  to 
be  a  trainbearer  ? " 

"  Yes,  mother,  I  have  learned  to  be  your  trainbearer,  but 
to  no  other  mortal  would  I  condescend  to  do  such  service." 

But  Olympia  was  not  listening.  She  was  day-dreaming 
again,  and  the  substance  of  her  dreams  was  as  follows  : 

"  How  soon,  perchance,  the  court  of  France  may  bear  my 
train  along,  while  I,  victorious  and  exultant,  crush  the  head  of 
my  enemies  beneath  my  heel  I  I  feel  the  glow  of  the  philter 
as  it  courses  through  my  veins,  warming  the  blood  that  shall 
mantle  in  my  cheeks,  kindling  the  fire  that  shall  flash  from 
my  eyes !  The  hour  is  nigh  when  I  am  to  make  my  last  su- 
preme effort  for  mastery  over  the  heart  of  Louis :  if  I  fail — I 
have  an  avenger  in  Eugene,  who — " 

At  this  moment  an  outcry  was  heard  in  the  streets,  and  as 
Olympia  opened  the  door  of  her  cabinet,  she  was  confronted 
by  her  steward,  who,  unannounced,  stood  pale  as  death  before 
his  astonished  mistress. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  RIOT. 

"What,  in  the  name  of  Heaven,  is  the  matter  ? "  exclaimed 
she.  "Whence  these  discordant  yells  without,  and  how 
comes  it  that  you  enter  my  private  apartments  without  a  sum- 
mons ? " 

"  I  trust  your  highness  will  pardon  my  boldness ;  the  case 
is  too  urgent  to  admit  of  formalities,  and  I  come  to  receive 
your  instructions  as  to — " 

Here  the  voice  of  the  steward  was  overpowered  by  the  yells 
of  the  populace  without,  and  for  several  moments  the  countess 
and  her  son  stood  in  speechless  amazement,  waiting  an  ex- 
planation.   "  What  can  it  mean  ?  *'  asked  she  at  last 


24  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

"  Your  highness,"  replied  the  tremhling  steward,  "  the  court 
is  filled  with  an  infuriated  mob,  who  rushed  in  before  we  had 
time  to  close  the  gates." 

Eugene,  with  an  exclamation  of  dismay,  would  have 
darted  to  the  window,  but  the  steward  raised  his  hand  implor- 
ingly. 

"  Do  not  let  them  see  you,  prince,"  cried  he.  "  They  have 
torn  up  the  pavement,  and  with  the  stones  have  shattered  the 
windows  of  the  lower  story." 

"  Then  it  is  a  riot,"  said  the  countess,  "  and  the  canaille  of 
Paris  have  rebelled  against  the  aristocracy." 

"  Unhappily,  your  highness,  their  anger  is  directed  exclu- 
sively against  the  Hotel  Soissons,  and,  if  I  judged  by  the  num- 
ber of  our  assailants,  I  should  say  that  all  Paris  has  joined  in 
the  attack.  Not  only  the  canaille  are  here,  but,  as  I  was  hur- 
rying to  the  corps  de  garde  to  ask  for  protection,  I  saw  more 
than  one  well-dressed  personage  descend  from  his  carriage  and 
come  thither  to  increase  the  number  of  our  enemies." 

"  I  understand,"  said  the  countess,  setting  her  teeth,  "  the 
anger  of  the  mob  is  directed  against  me." 

"Mother,"  whispered  Eugene,  "they  must  be  the  same 
men  whom  I  met  in  the  streets,  and  ^whose  jeers  drove  me 
thither  to  add  to  your  misery  the  stab  of  my  unfilial  doubts." 

"  Did  you  say  that  you  had  sent  off  for  guards  ? "  asked  she 
of  Latour. 

"  Yes,  your  highness.  I  went  at  once  to  the  headquarters 
of  the  corps  de  garde,  and  the  ofl&cer  of  the  day  promised  im- 
m.ediate  succor." 

"It  will  not  be  sent,"  returned  Olympia.  "But  hark! 
What  tumult  is  this  ?  " 

"  They  are  battering  the  palace-doors,"  said  Eugene,  who, 
in  spite  of  the  steward's  entreaties,  had  approached  the  win- 
dow and  was  looking  down  upon  the  mob.  The  palaxse  de 
Soissons  fronted  the  Rue  Deux  Ecus,  from  which  it  was  sep- 
arated by  a  tall  iron  railing.  The  enclosure  was  filled  with  a 
throng  so  dense  that  there  was  scarcely  room  for  them  to 
move  a  limb ;  and  yet,  in  their  regular  assaults  upon  the  pal- 
ace-doors, they  seemed  to  be  obeying  the  commands  of  some 
unseen  chief. 


THE  RIOT.  25 

Eugene  surveyed  the  scene  with  something  of  that  calm  t)ut 
powerful  interest  which  possesses  the  soul  of  a  commander 
about  to  engage  the  enemy. 

"  The  multitude  increase,"  said  he.  "  If  they  continue  to 
press  in  much  longer,  the  court  will  be  so  thronged  that  no 
more  missiles  can  be  thrown." 

At  that  very  moment  the  windows  were  assailed  by  a  hail- 
storm of  stones,  one  of  which  feU  at  Olympia's  feet.  She 
touched  it  with  the  point  of  her  satin  slipper,  remarking  as  she 
did  so,  "  This  is  a  greeting  from  Louvois." 

"  For  Grod's  sake,  your  highness,  be  not  so  rash !  "  exclaimed 
Latour,  as  a  second  stone  flew  over  the  head  of  the  prince,  and 
shattered  part  of  a  cornice  close  by. 

Eugene  had  not  moved.  He  heeded  neither  steward  nor 
stone,  but  stood  with  folded  arms,  looking  upon  the  terrible 
concourse  of  his  mother's  accusers.  His  face  was  very  pale 
and  resolute ;  it  expressed  nothing  beyond  stern  endurance ; 
but  the  eye  was  threatening,  and  the  dwarfish  figure  had  ex- 
panded until  the  abbe  was  forgotten,  and  in  his  place  stood  the 
implacable  foe  of  Louis  XIV. 

*'  Yes,"  said  he,  "  I  was  right.  The  crowd  is  so  dense  that 
they  now  threaten  one  another,  and,  unless  they  force  the  en- 
trance to  the  palace,  they  will  be  crushed  by  their  own  num- 
bers." 

"  They  will  never  force  the  entrance,"  said  Latour.  "  The 
door  is  barred  and  bolted,  and  they  may  bombard  it  for  a  day 
before  they  ever  make  an  impression  upon  the  stout  plates  of 
iron  with  which  it  is  lined." 

"  Ay,"  replied  Eugene,  with  a  smile.  "  Catharine  de  Medi- 
cis  knew  how  to  build  a  stronghold.  She  knew  from  experi- 
ence what  it  is  to  face  an  insurrection,  and  took  her  precau- 
tions accordingly.  We  owe  her  a  debt  of  gratitude  for  our 
security — Gk)od  heavens!"  cried  he,  interrupting  himself, 
**lhey  have  found  means  to  send  us  another  salvo." 

A  shower  of  stones  came  rattling  toward  the  very  window 
where  he  stood,  one  of  which  struck  the  countess  on  the  shoul- 
der and  caused  her  to  wince. 

Once  more  Latour  besought  her  to  take  refuge  in  another 
ttpartmeni. 


28  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

before  the  window  contemplating  her  assailants,  giving  back 
look  for  look  of  scorn  and  abhorrence. 

"  May  I  beg  of  my  dear  mother  permission  to  absent  myself 
for  a  while  ? "  said  Eugene. 

The  countess  looked  round  with  inquiring  eyes.  "  Whither 
would  you  go,  my  son  ? "  asked  she. 

"  I  wish  to  give  some  orders  to  the  domestics,  to  arm  them, 
and  assign  to  each  man  his  post." 

"  Where  will  you  find  weapons,  my  son  ? " 

"  I  have  among  my  effects  a  small  collection  of  fire-arms. 
They  are  all  in  good  order,  and  all  loaded.  I  have  nothing  to 
do  but  distribute  them,  and  place  my  men." 

The  countess  smiled.  "  In  good  sooth,  I  begin  to  believe 
that  you  are  fitter  for  a  soldier  than  for  a  churchman. 
But  you  are  not  in  earnest  when  you  speak  of  using  fire- 
arms ? " 

"  Why  not  ?  We  are  attacked,  and,  obeying  the  laws  of 
necessity,  we  defend  ourselves.  Unfortunately,  we  are  forced 
to  remain  on  the  defensive ;  I  only  wish  I  had  an  opportunity 
to  attack." 

"  But  what  means  that  new  outbreak  of  fury  ? "  asked  the 
countess,  returning  to  the  window. 

"  It  means,"  cried  Eugene,  joyfully,  "  that  Latour  has  been 
successful,  and  the  gates  are  locked.  The  ruffians  have  dis- 
covered the  snare,  and  they  howl  accordingly.  Now  to  my 
garrison ;  I  must  station  it  with  judgment,  for  it  is  not  nu- 
merous." 

"I  will  accompany  you,  my  son,"  said  the  countess.  "I 
would  not  miss  the  sight  of  the  first  exploit  of  my  future  car- 
dinal, him  who  promises  to  unite  in  his  own  person  the  wisdom 
of  Mazarin  with  the  prowess  of  Richelieu !  " 

The  servants  were  assembled  in  the  hall,  whither  they  had 
taken  refuge  from  the  stones  and  splintering  glass,  that  were 
flying  in  the  palace  windows.  They  were  not  a  very  valiant- 
looking  body  of  troops,  but  their  commander  made  no  com- 
ment upon  their  dismayed  faces.  He  merely  counted  them 
and  spoke  to  his  valet. 

"  Darmont,  conduct  these  men  to  the  armory,  and  provide 
each  one  with  a  musket.    Let  them  handle  the  guns  carefully. 


THE  RIOT.  29 

for  they  are  heavily  loaded.  Bring  me  my  pistols  also.  And 
now,  away!  and  return  quickly." 

Silently,  and,  to  all  appearances,  not  much  edified  by  these 
recommendations,  the  domestics  followed  Darmont,  while  Eu- 
gene returned  to  his  station  at  the  window. 

"  Not  only  have  they  a  leader,"  said  he,  "  but  I  believe  that 
they  were  instigated  to  make  this  attack,  mother." 

"  No  doubt  of  it,"  replied  Olympia ;  "  and  since  Louvois  has 
dared  so  much,  we  may  infer  that  he  has  the  sanction  of  the 
king  for  his  brutality." 

"Look!"  cried  Eugene,  catching  her  arm,  "there  is  the 
leader ! — that  tall  man  in  the  brown  suit,  with  bright  buttons^ 
who  stands  upon  the  stone  seat,  near  the  gates." 

"  I  see  him,"  returned  the  countess.  "  He  is  speaking  with 
two  men  who  are  directly  in  front  of  him.  This  person  looks 
familiar  to  me:  I  have  surely  seen  that  tall  figure  and  those 
wide  shoulders  before.  If  his  hat  were  not  drawn  so  far  over 
his  brows,  and  we  could  but  see  his  face,  our  doubts  as  to  the 
source  of  this  outrage  would  speedily  be  solved." 

"  He  has  been  giving  instructions,  for  the  two  men  are 
addressing  the  crowd.  I  fear  we  must  look  out  for  another 
bombardment." 

And  so  it  seemed;  for  the  mob,  having  recovered  from 
their  momentary  fright,  were  evidently  preparing  for  action. 
Hundreds  of  brawny  arms,  each  one  of  which  grasped  a  stone, 
were  raised  into  the  air;  while  as  many  stooping  forms  were 
geen,  crouching  close  to  the  ground,  that  they  might  leave 
room  for  the  slingers  to  hurl  their  missiles  without  impedi- 
ment 

"  That  is  a  good  manoeuvre,"  said  Eugene.  "  Their  leader 
understands  strategic  warfare.  They  are  ready,  and  await  the 
word  of  command.    It  comes !    Stand  back,  mother ! " 

A  crash  was  heard,  but  not  a  stone  had  been  aimed  at  the 
windows.  "Ah,  I  imderstand,"  cried  Eugene.  "They  are 
trying  to  force  the  door,  and  so  obtain  their  release.  Tbank 
Heaven !  Here  comes  the  garrison,  a  handful  of  braves  who, 
I  hope,  are  destined  to  change  the  fortunes  of  the  day. — Now," 
continued  he,  advancing  to  meet  them,  "  listen  to  me.  There 
are  twelve  of  you,  and  the  hall  has  seven  openings.    Leave  the 


28  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

before  the  window  contemplating  her  assailants,  giving  back 
look  for  look  of  scorn  and  abhorrence. 

"  May  I  beg  of  my  dear  mother  permission  to  absent  myself 
for  a  while  ? "  said  Eugene. 

The  countess  looked  round  with  inquiring  eyes.  "  Whither 
would  you  go,  my  son  ? "  asked  she. 

"  I  wish  to  give  some  orders  to  the  domestics,  to  arm  them, 
and  assign  to  each  man  his  post." 

"  Where  will  you  find  weapons,  my  son  ? " 

"  I  have  among  my  effects  a  small  collection  of  fire-arms. 
They  are  all  in  good  order,  and  all  loaded.  I  have  nothing  to 
do  but  distribute  them,  and  place  my  men." 

The  countess  smiled.  "  In  good  sooth,  I  begin  to  believe 
that  you  are  fitter  for  a  soldier  than  for  a  churchman. 
But  you  are  not  in  earnest  when  you  speak  of  using  fire- 
arms ? " 

"  Why  not  ?  We  are  attacked,  and,  obeying  the  laws  of 
necessity,  we  defend  ourselves.  Unfortunately,  we  are  forced 
to  remain  on  the  defensive ;  I  only  wish  I  had  an  opportunity 
to  attack." 

"  But  what  means  that  new  outbreak  of  fury  ? "  asked  the 
countess,  returning  to  the  window. 

"  It  means,"  cried  Eugene,  joyfully,  "  that  Latour  has  been 
successful,  and  the  gates  are  locked.  The  ruflBans  have  dis- 
covered the  snare,  and  they  howl  accordingly.  Now  to  my 
garrison ;  I  must  station  it  with  judgment,  for  it  is  not  nu- 
merous." 

"I  will  accompany  you,  my  son,"  said  the  countess.  "I 
would  not  miss  the  sight  of  the  first  exploit  of  my  future  car- 
dinal, him  who  promises  to  unite  in  his  own  person  the  wisdom 
of  Mazarin  with  the  prowess  of  Richelieu !  " 

The  servants  were  assembled  in  the  hall,  whither  they  had 
taken  refuge  from  the  stones  and  splintering  glass,  that  were 
flying  in  the  palace  windows.  They  were  not  a  very  valiant- 
looking  body  of  troops,  but  their  commander  made  no  com- 
ment upon  their  dismayed  faces.  He  merely  counted  them 
and  spoke  to  his  valet. 

"  Darmont,  conduct  these  men  to  the  armory,  and  provide 
each  one  with  a  musket.    Let  them  handle  the  guns  carefully. 


THE  RIOT.  29 

for  they  are  heavily  loaded.  Bring  me  my  pistols  also.  And 
now^  away!  and  return  quickly." 

Silently,  and,  to  all  appearances,  not  much  edified  by  these 
recommendations,  the  domestics  followed  Darmont,  while  Eu- 
gene returned  to  his  station  at  the  window. 

"  Not  only  have  they  a  leader,"  said  he,  "  but  I  believe  that 
they  were  instigated  to  make  this  attack,  mother." 

"  No  doubt  of  it,"  replied  Olympia;  "  and  since  Louvois  has 
dared  so  much,  we  may  infer  that  he  has  the  sanction  of  the 
king  for  his  brutality." 

"Look!"  cried  Eugene,  catching  her  arm,  "there  is  the 
leader ! — that  tall  man  in  the  brown  suit,  with  bright  buttons, 
who  stands  upon  the  stone  seat,  near  the  gates." 

"  I  see  him,"  returned  the  countess.  "  He  is  speaking  with 
two  men  who  are  directly  in  front  of  him.  This  person  looks 
familiar  to  me :  I  have  surely  seen  that  tall  figure  and  those 
wide  shoulders  before.  If  his  hat  were  not  drawn  so  far  over 
his  brows,  and  we  could  but  see  his  face,  our  doubts  as  to  the 
source  of  this  outrage  would  speedily  be  solved." 

"He  has  been  giving  instructions,  for  the  two  men  are 
addressing  the  crowd.  I  fear  we  must  look  out  for  another 
bombardment." 

And  so  it  seemed;  for  the  mob,  having  recovered  from 
their  momentary  fright,  were  evidently  preparing  for  action. 
Hundreds  of  brawny  arms,  each  one  of  which  grasped  a  stone, 
were  raised  into  the  air ;  while  as  many  stooping  forms  were 
leen,  crouching  close  to  the  ground,  that  they  might  leave 
room  for  the  slingers  to  hurl  their  missiles  without  impedi- 
ment 

"  That  is  a  good  manoeuvre,"  said  Eugene.  "  Their  leader 
understands  strategic  warfare.  They  are  ready,  and  await  the 
word  of  command.    It  comes !    Stand  back,  mother ! " 

A  crash  was  heard,  but  not  a  stone  had  been  aimed  at  the 
windows.  "Ah,  I  understand,"  cried  Eugene.  "They  are 
trying  to  force  the  door,  and  so  obtain  their  release.  Thank 
Heaven !  Here  comes  the  garrison,  a  handful  of  braves  who, 
I  hope,  are  destined  to  change  tbe  fortunes  of  the  day. — Now," 
continued  he,  advancing  to  meet  them,  "  listen  to  me.  There 
are  twelve  of  you,  and  the  hall  has  seven  openings.    Leave  the 


30  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

central  window  free,  and  station  yourselves  two  at  each  one  of 
the  other  six.  Throw  open  the  casements,  cock  your  guns, 
and  be  ready  for  the  word  of  command.  Darmont,  give  me 
nay  pistols." 

With  one  of  these  in  either  hand,  Eugene  stationed  him- 
self at  the  window  in  the  centre,  while  his  mother  stood  by  his 
side. 

"  They  are  about  to  favor  us  with  another  volley,"  said  the 
prince.  "  Neither  they  nor  their  leader  have  as  yet  remarked 
the  changed  aspect  of  the  palace-windows." 

"The  hat  of  the  leader  is  purposely  drawn  down,  and, 
while  he  succeeds  in  concealing  his  features,  he  loses  sight  of 
the  danger  which  threatens  from  above.  So  much  the  better 
for  us ;  but  I  do  long  to  have  a  sight  of  his  face,"  returned  the 
countess. 

"  You  shall  have  your  wish,"  replied  Eugene,  with  a  smile. 
"  I  will  knock  off  his  hat,  and  your  curiosity  shall  be  grati- 
fied." 

"  How  will  you  manage  to  do  that  ? " 

"  You  shall  see,"  said  he,  raising  the  pistol  that  he  held  in 
his  right  hand. 

He  fired,  and  when  the  smoke  had  cleared  away,  the  face 
of  the  leader  was  exposed  to  view.  The  ball  had  struck  the 
hat,  which  had  fallen,  and  now  a  pair  of  dark,  sinister  eyes 
were  glaring  at  the  spot  whence  the  insult  had  been  sent. 

"  Have  a  care,"  said  the  prince,  leaning  forward  and  ad- 
dressing the  crowd.  "  If  you  send  another  missile  against  these 
walls,  I  will  have  twelve  of  your  lives ! " 

The  men,  who  were  just  about  to  fiing  their  stones,  paused 
and  stared  at  one  another  in  dumb  perplexity. 

Their  leader,  pale  with  rage,  gave  the  word  of  command. 

Eugene  heard  it,  and  called  out  in  clear,  defiant  tones :  "  If 
the  leader  of  this  riot  attempt  a  repetition  of  his  order,  I  will 
break  his  right  arm. " 

"  Another  volley,  men ! "  shouted  the  chief. 

A  second  report  from  the  window  was  heard,  which  was 
answered  by  a  yell  from  below.  Eugene's  ball  had  pierced 
the  elbow  of  the  leader,  and  the  dismayed  crowd  had  made  a 
hasty  movement  toward  the  gates. 


THE  RIOT.  31 

"Do  you  not  see  that  there  is  no  egfress  for  you  except 
through  the  palace  ?  Look  at  the  murderess  there,  instigating 
her  whelp  to  new  crimes!  She  exults  over  your  weakness, 
and  laughs  at  your  panic.    On !  on  1    Batter  down  the  doors ! " 

"  On  I "  echoed  the  mob ;  and  their  stones  were  flung  with 
such  frenzy  against  the  palace-doors,  that  its  very  walls  trem- 
bled. 

"  Fire ! "  called  out  the  sonorous  voice  of  Eugene,  and  in 
another  moment  might  be  seen  the  sinking  forms  of  twelve 
of  the  rioters,  while,  among  the  others,  some  were  pale  with 
fright,  and  a  few  cried  out  that  they  would  be  revenged. 

"Revenge  is  for  those  whom  you  have  insulted  and  at- 
tacked," replied  the  prince,  deliberately.  "  You  have  made  a 
cowardly  assault  upon  a  noble  lady,  and  not  one  of  you  shall 
leave  this  place  alive ! — Make  ready  I  Take  aim ! "  continued 
he  to  his  men. 

The  click  of  the  locks  was  distinctly  heard,  and  in  the 
crowd  each  man  fancied  that  one  of  those  carbines  was  aimed 
at  his  own  head.  The  mob  was  losing  heart;  not  even  their 
leader  was  to  be  seen  or  heard.  He  had  taken  refuge  in  a 
sheltered  comer  of  the  court,  where  his  wounds  were  being 
bound  up  by  his  lieutenants.  Inconspicuous  as  he  was,  how- 
ever, the  sharp  eyes  of  Olympia  had  followed  him  to  his  re- 
treat. Not  for  one  moment  did  she  lose  sight  of  him ;  she 
was  determined  to  solve  the  enigma  of  his  identity.  As  the 
last  bellicose  words  of  Prince  Eugene  rang  through  the  ears 
of  his  dismayed  followers,  the  wounded  ringleader  flung  back 
his  head  with  such  sudden  haste,  that  its  masses  of  dark, 
tangled  hair  were  entirely  thrown  aside,  and  the  face  that  was 
revealed  by  their  removal,  caused  the  countess  to  start  and 
utter  an  exclamation  of  surprise.  As  Eugene  was  about  to 
give  the  command  to  Are,  his  mother  caught  his  arm,  and 
whispered  in  his  ear: 

"  My  son,  I  now  think  that  I  can  tell  you  the  name  of  yon- 
der caitiff  there,  and,  if  I  have  guessed  rightly,  it  were  better 
for  us  to  cease  hostile  demonstrations,  and  capitulate." 

**  Capitulate ! "  cried  the  prince,  indignantly.  "  Capitulate 
with  the  rabble !  Who  can  be  this  man  that  has  so  suddenly 
cowered  the  heart  of  my  noble  mother  ? " 


32  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

"  I  think  that  he  is  the  son  of  Louvois,"  whispered  she. 

"  Ah,  the  presuming  Barbesieur,  who  would  have  given  his 
name  to  a  Princess  de  Carignan? " 

"  Yes — the  same.  His  beard  is  dyed,  and  he  wears  false 
locks,  but,  spite  of  his  disguise,  I  feel  sure  that  it  is  Barbe- 
sieur. And  I  warn  you,  Eugene!  harm  not  a  hair  on  his 
head,  for  he  is  the  favorite  son  of  the  mightiest  man  in  France 
— mighty  and  vindictive.  Kill  as  many  of  the  rabble  as  you 
will ;  but  give  positive  orders  to  your  men  not  to  touch  Barbe- 
sieur Louvois." 

"  I  ought  to  command  them  to  fire  on  no  other  man,  for  he 
is  responsible  for  the  acts  of  every  rioter  here." 

"  That  would  be  to  cast  your  entire  family  into  the  very 
jaws  of  destruction.  These  men  who  call  me  murderess,  could 
not  be  made  to  believe  that  I  have  the  tenderness  of  a  mother 
for  my  children ;  but  you,  Eugene,  who  know  how  dearly  I 
love  you  all,  you  can  understand  that  no  revenge  would  be 
sweet  that  was  purchased  at  the  expense  of  my  children's  wel- 
fare. Spare,  then,  I  implore  you,  the  man  who  holds  your 
destinies  in  his  unfriendly  hand." 

"  So  be  it,"  sighed  Eugene,  and  he  went  from  man  to  man, 
saying  in  a  low  voice,  "  Direct  your  fire  toward  the  left."  He 
then  took  his  station  at  the  central  window,  and,  raising 
his  arm,  called  out  a  second  time  :  "  Make  ready !  Take 
aim!" 

The  multitude  heard,  and  their  exceeding  consternation 
found  utterance  in  one  prolonged  shriek  of  horror. 

"  Do  not  fire ! "  screamed  a  hundred  voices.  "  Do  not  fire  I 
We  are  defenceless ! " 

The  order  was  countermanded,  and  the  self-possessed  de- 
fender of  the  beleaguered  palace  advanced  his  head  and  con- 
templated the  ignoble  faces  of  his  enemies. 

"  You  acknowledge  yourself  baffled,  then  ?  You  are  will- 
ing to  retreat  ? " 

*'  Ay ! "  was  the  ready  response  of  every  rioter  there. 

"  You  swear  to  desist  now  and  forever  from  your  infamous 
attack  upon  this  palace  ?  You  swear  never  more  to  make  use 
of  vituperative  epithets  toward  the  family  of  the  deceased 
Count  de  Soissons  ? " 


THE  RIOT.  33 

"  We  swear,  we  swear !  Open  the  gates !  Let  us  out !  Let 
us  out !  "  was  now  the  universal  cry. 

"  Not  so  fast.  Before  you  have  my  permission  to  retire,  I 
must  have  unequivocal,  outspoken  evidence  of  your  repentance 
and  conversion.  You  have  presumed  to  asperse  the  good 
name  of  the  Countess  de  Soissons.  Take  hack  your  injurious 
words,  and  cheer  her  now,  right  lustily.  Cry  out  three  times, 
*  Long  live  the  noble  Countess  de  Soissons ! '  and,  if  your  ac- 
clamations are  to  my  mind,  I  will  open  the  gates." 

The  reply  to  these  conditions  was  a  greeting  so  enthusiastic 
and  so  unanimous,  that  you  would  have  sworn  the  mob  had 
assembled  before  the  hotel  to  tender  to  its  inmates  a  popular 
ovation. 

"  Miserable  canaille  !  "  muttered  their  chief;  "  they  are  base 
enough  to  hurl  their  stones  at  me^  if  that  beardless  manikin  up 
there  should  require  it  of  them,  as  a  peace-offering  to  his  im- 
maculate mother  1 " 

"  I  told  your  excellency  that  you  could  not  trust  them,'' 
replied  the  companion  on  whose  arm  he  was  leaning.  "  It  is 
a  dangerous  thing  to  be  identified  with  any  action  of  theirs." 

"  You  were  right,  Francois.  Give  me  your  arm,  and  let  us 
try  to  reach  the  gates,  so  as  to  be  the  first  to  escape  from  this 
accursed  man- trap." 

"  You  have  cheered  the  countess  but  once,"  cried  Eugene 
to  the  multitude.     "  Do  you  wish  me  to  renew  our  strife  ? " 

"  Long  live  the  noble  Countess  de  Soissons ! "  was  the 
prompt  reply.  And,  without  waiting  for  a  third  suggestion, 
they  shouted  again  and  again,  "  Long  live  the  Countess  de  Sois- 
sons 1" 

Olympia's  flashing  eyes  rested  proudly  on  her  son.  "I 
thank  you,  Eugene:  you  have  avenged  me  effectually.  All 
Paris  will  be  filled  with  lampoons  on  the  ridiculous  repulse  of 
the  valiant  Barbesieur  and  his  followers." 

Ehigene  made  no  reply.  His  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  per- 
sonage whom  they  supposed  to  be  the  son  of  Louvois,  and  the 
prince  knew  perfectly  well  wherefore  he  seemed  in  such  nerv- 
ous haste  to  reach  the  gates. 

"  He  hopes  to  escape  without  recognition,"  muttered  Eugene^ 
"but  I  must  have  a  word  with  him  before  we  part." 


34  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

"Open  the  gates! "  clamored  the  populace  anew;  then  sud- 
denly there  was  a  cry  of  alarm  which  was  echoed  from  man 
to  man,  from  group  to  group,  until  it  shaped  itself  into  these 
words :  '*  The  guards !    The  guards !  " 


CHAPTER  V. 

BARBESIEUR  LOUVOIS. 

Thundering  down  the  street  came  a  troop  of  horsemen^ 
who  halted  directly  in  front  of  the  palace-gates. 

"  Louvois'  spies  have  been  reporting  the  failure  of  his  son's 
warlike  expedition,"  remarked  Olympia,  and  the  guards  whom 
we  had  vainly  called  to  our  help,  have  come  in  hot  haste  to 
protect  our  assailants." 

By  this  time  the  oflBcer  in  command  was  at  the  gates  mak- 
ing vain  efforts  to  open  them. 

"  What  does  this  signify  ? "  asked  he.  "  And  what  is  this 
multitude  about  in  the  court  of  the  Hotel  de  Soissons  ? " 

"Look  at  the  palace-windows  and  the  palace-doors,  and 
you  will  read  your  answer  there,"  replied  Eugene.  "  I  closed 
the  gates  against  a  furious  and  misguided  mob ;  but  we  have 
come  to  terms,  and  I  am  about  to  liberate  them.  I  crave  your 
indulgence  for  these  poor  fellows :  they  have  been  deceived, 
and  knew  not  what  they  did,  and  I  hope  that  you  will  make 
good  the  forgiveness  I  have  extended  to  their  fault,  by  allow- 
ing them  to  go  hence  without  molestation." 

" If  so,"  replied  the  officer,  "I  shall.be  happy  to  confirm 
you  highness's  clemency  by  carrying  out  your  order  for  their 
release." 

"  Is  it  possible,"  asked  the  countess  of  her  son,  "  that  you 
are  in  earnest  ?  You  intend  to  suffer  those  wretches  to  go 
away  unharmed !  Because  I  asked  your  forbearance  for  one 
man,  shall  this  vile  horde  be  snatched  from  the  hands  of  jus- 
tice!" 

"  Do  you  suppose  that  justice  has  any  intention  of  overtak- 
ing them  ? "  asked  Eugene,  with  a  significant  smile.     "  Believe 


BARBESIEUR  LOUVOIS.  35 

me,  dear  mother,  I  do  but  anticipate  the  object  for  which  the 
guards  were  sent,  and  spare  myself  and  you  the  humiliation 
of  publishing  to  the  world  that  neither  law  nor  justice  takes 
cognizance  of  the  wrongs  of  the  Countess  de  Soissons.  These 
men  have  come  hither  to  succor  our  enemies,  not  us." 

''  Ah,  my  son,  I  begin  to  appreciate  you.  You  have  in- 
herited the  sagacity  of  your  great  uncle,"  returned  Olympia. 

'*  Open  the  gates !  open  the  gates ! "  cried  the  rioters. 

"Will  your  highness  be  pleased  to  send  some  one  to  re^ 
lease  your  prisoners  ? "  asked  the  captain  of  the  guardsmen. 

"  I  shall  be  there  myself,  in  a  moment,"  was  tlie  reply. 

"  You ! "  exclaimed  the  countess.  "  Would  you  expose 
yourself  to  the  vengeance  of  the  populace,  Eugene  ? " 

"  They  will  not  molest  me.  Barbesieur  Louvois  has  reached 
the  gates,  and  I  must  greet  him  ere  he  goes. — Come,  Latour 
and  Darmont,  and  show  me  the  way  by  the  private  staircase. 
The  rest  of  you  keep  your  posts  and  be  watchful,  for  the 
struggle  may  be  renewed,  and  it  is  just  possible  that  I  may 
have  to  order  you  to  fire. — And  now  shall  I  conduct  my 
mother  to  her  boudoir  ? " 

"  No,  my  son,  I  remain  here  to  observe  what  passes  below, 
nor  will  I  retire  until  I  shall  have  seen  the  ending  of  this 
curious  spectacle." 

Eugene  bowed  and  withdrew.  "  Go  before,  Latour,"  said 
he.  "  I  am  unacquainted  with  the  private  inlets  and  outlets 
of  the  palace." 

Latour  obeyed,  saying  to  himself:  "They  may  well  make 
a  priest  of  this  virtuous  youth,  who  knows  nothing  of  the 
secret  windings  of  his  own  hotel.  His  father  and  his  brother 
were  wiser  than  he;  and  many  a  night  have  they  gone  in  and 
out  on  visits  of  gallantry,  when  they  were  young  enough  to 
be  as  squeamish  as  he,  or  old  enough  to  have  reformed  their 
ways." 

"Give  me  the  keys,"  said  Eugene,  as  they  emerged  from 

the  side-entrance.     "  I  will  unlock  the  gates,  and  when  I  cry 

Halt ! '  do  you  seize  upon  a  man  whom  I  shall  point  out  to 

you  as  he  attempts  to  force  the  passage  in  advance  of  his  con* 

federates." 

**Let  us  alone  for  holding  him  fast,  your  highness." 


36  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

Eugene  went  a  few  steps  farther;  then,  turning  round,  he 
said :  "  Yes — grasp  him  well,  but  be  careful  not  to  take  him  by 
the  right  arm,  for  I  believe  that  it  is  wounded." 

As  he  spoke  these  merciful  words,  Eugene  blushed,  for  he 
saw  a  derisive  smile  on  Latour's  face. 

"  I  was  in  error,"  thought  the  steward.  "  Such  a  soft  heart 
ought  to  have  been  lodged  in  the  body  of  a  woman." 

They  had  now  reached  the  palace-front,  where,  in  return 
for  the  obsequious  salutation  of  the  captain  of  the  guard,  Eu- 
gene slightly  inclined  his  head. 

"  You  came  late  to  the  rescue,"  said  the  prince.  "  Had  you 
answered  the  requisition  of  my  steward,  you  would  have 
spared  me  the  painful  necessity  of  wounding  a  dozen  of  those 
poor  devils." 

"  Was  there  bloodshed  ? "  returned  the  oflBcer. 

"Of  course  there  was.  You  can  hardly  imagine  that  I 
quieted  these  turbulent  rioters  with  a  lullaby.  Yes,  there  has 
been  bloodshed,  and  I  have  had  satisfaction  for  the  affront 
offered  to  my  house  to-day.  I  hope  you  hold  me  justified  in 
my  method  of  procedure." 

"Perfectly  justified,  your  highness." 

"Then  the  matter  rests  here,  and  peace  is  proclaimed. 
From  my  amnesty,  however,  I  except  one  man,  him  who  is  re- 
sponsible for  all  the  evil  that  has  been  done  by  his  followers." 

"  Your  highness  has  only  to  point  him  out,  and  I  will  have 
him  arrested  forthwith." 

"  You  give  me  your  word  of  honor  that  he  shall  not  escape 
punishment  ? " 

"  My  word  of  honor,  your  highness." 

"Latour  and  Darmont,  station  yourselves  one  on  either 
side  of  me,  while  I  unlock  the  gates," 

They  took  their  positions,  and  Eugene  slowly  drew  out  his 
ponderous  keys.  They  were  heard  to  click  in  the  locks,  and 
at  the  welcome  sound,  there  was  a  shout  of  joy  from  the  im- 
prisoned rioters.  They  pressed  eagerly  forward — the  gates 
parted— and  the  crowd  began  to  pour  out  into  the  streets. 
Eugene  soon  perceived  the  tall  form  of  the  ringleader,  although 
he  had  borrowed  the  hat  of  his  companion,  and  wore  it 
slouched  far  down  over  his  face. 


BABBESIEUR  LOUVOia  37 

As  he  approached  the  entrance,  Eugene  gave  the  signal 
agreed  upon,  and  he  was  seized  by  Latour  and  Darmont.  But 
they  had  forgotten  the  precaution  given  them  as  regarded  his 
wounded  arm,  for  as  they  touched  him  he  had  been  unable  to 
suppress  a  cry  of  pain. 

"  Hold  him,  Latour,"  said  the  prince,  "  and  you,  Darmont, 
close  the  gates  so  that  only  one  man  may  pass  at  a  time.  Some 
of  those  guards  might  be  of  service  to  us.  Have  I  your  permis- 
sion to  employ  them,  captain  ? " 

Eight  men  were  ordered  to  dismount  and  to  station  them- 
selves at  the  gates,  which,  spite  of  the  tremendous  pressure 
from  within,  they  managed  to  secure,  so  that  each  man  as  he 
passed  could  be  scanned  by  him,  who,  notwithstanding  his 
delicate  build  and  diminutive  stature,  was  unquestionably  the 
hero  of  the  day. 

"  Now  that  the  court  is  empty,  you  can  see  what  devasta- 
tion has  been  committed,"  said  he  to  the  captain  of  the  guard. 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  replied  the  latter,  raising  himself  in  his 
stirrups  to  overlook  the  railing,  "  they  have  uprooted  the  whole 
pavement." 

"  And  have  seriously  damaged  the  windows,"  added  Eu- 
gene. "For  all  this  destruction  we  have  to  thank  yonder 
churl,"  continued  he,  pointing  to  a  man  of  almost  gigantic 
stature,  who  was  struggling  to  free  himself  from  the  hands  of 
Latour  and  Darmont.  "  Not  content  with  the  laurels  he  has 
won  as  the  ringleader  of  a  mob,  he  has  aspired  to  achieve  re- 
nown by  defaming  women.  He  has  incited  the  populace  to 
asperse  the  good  name  of  my  honored  mother,  and  by  Heaven, 
he  shall  suffer  for  every  opprobrious  word  that  has  fallen 
from  the  tongue  of  every  base-bom  villain  that  followed  him 
hither  I" 

"Yotir  highness  shall  yourself  dictate  his  punishment," 
replied  the  officer,  courteously. 

**  Then  order  your  men  to  capture  the  twelve  last  rioters 
that  leave  the  enclosure,  and  let  their  leader,  who  is  a  thou- 
sand times  more  guilty  than  they,  oversee  the  restoration  of 
the  pavement,  and  himself  remove  yonder  Druid's  temple,  that 
lies  before  the  central  window  there." 

*' Never  I"  exclaimed  the  giant,  redoubling  his  efforts  to 


38  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

escape,  and  writhing  so  vigorously  that  Latour  and  Darmont 
had  to  strain  every  sinew  to  retain  their  hold  of  his  huge 
body. 

Eugene  eyed  his  prisoner  with  withering  scorn.  "You 
hear  him,  captain !  He  says  '  Never ! '  as  though  it  were  for 
him  to  decide  whether  or  not  my  judgment  is  a  righteous 
one.  And  yet  I  think  it  most  moderate  amends  to  make  for 
such  immeasurable  wrong." 

"  Indeed,  your  highness,  it  is  most  disproportionate  to  the 
enormity  of  the  offence.  It  is  only  too  merciful ! — Here !  Eight 
men  to  carry  out  the  orders  of  the  noble  Prince  of  Savoy ! " 
shouted  he,  peremptorily. 

The  crowd,  meanwhile,  by  this  time  convinced  that  submis- 
sion  was  their  only  alternative,  were  passing  slowly  and  si- 
lently through  the  gates.  They  were  so  completely  subdued, 
that  not  one  ventured  a  remonstrance.  They  were  intent  each 
man  upon  his  own  retreat,  and  nobody  was  troubled  about  the 
fate  of  the  chief. 

"  There  are  just  twelve  men  within  the  enclosure,"  said  the 
oflacer.  "  Instead  of  capturing  them  singly,  close  the  gates, 
and  secure  them  all  at  once." 

"  But  first  let  us  admit  my  distinguished  prisoner. — Thrust 
him  in,  Latour,  and  conduct  him  to  his  task.  He  must  expiate 
his  offence  against  the  Countess  de  Soissons,  by  removing 
that  heap  of  stones,  which  were  cast  by  his  command 
against  my  palace-doors.  If  he  prove  intractable,  bring  him 
to  his  senses  by  administering  a  blow  or  two  with  a  stout 
cudgel." 

The  chief,  who  for  a  few  moments  had  been  hoping  by 
affected  submission  to  withdraw  the  attention  of  Eugene  from 
himself  to  his  followers,  gave  a  howl  of  rage,  and  looked 
around  for  his  companion.  The  latter,  instead  of  parsing  out 
with  the  crowd,  had  remained  voluntarily  in  the  enclosure 
with  the  twelve  who  were  to  suffer  for  all. 

They  whispered  together,  after  which  the  subordinate,  ap- 
proaching the  captain  of  the  guard,  said:  "  Captain,  I  come  to 
offer  myself  in  the  place  of  my  poor  brother,  who,  having  been 
wounded  in  the  arm,  is  helpless,  and  incapable  of  removing 
the  smallest  of  those  stones." 


BAKBESIEUR  LOUVOIS.  39 

"What  says  your  highness?"  asked  the  officer  of  the 
prince. 

"  I  grant  the  petition,  for  it  is  reasonable.  Let  him  confine 
himself,  then,  to  the  superintendence  of  the  work." 

''  Captain,  I  crave  permission  to  conduct  my  brother  to  a 
surgeon,  where  his  wound  may  be  dressed.  It  is  impossible 
that  any  man  can  be  so  brutal  as  to  require  him  to  stay  here 
with  a  bullet  in  his  arm,"  said  the  subordinate. 

"  The  bullet  was  no  impediment  while  outrage  was  to  be 
committed  on  the  property  of  the  Countess  de  Soissons,"  thun- 
dered Eugene,  "  and  I  exact  that  he  remain." 

"  Your  highness's  commands  shall  be  obeyed,"  replied  the 
officer. 

"  Captain,"  said  the  ringleader,  dragging  himself  forward, 
whUe  in  his  tremendous  strength  he  forced  his  captors  along 
with  him,  "  captain,  I  must  have  a  word  in  private  with  you. 
I  have  something  of  importance  to  communicate,  and  you 
must  come  nearer  that  I  may  whisper  in  your  ear." 

So  imperious  was  the  sound  of  his  voice  that  the  captain 
involuntarily  obeyed,  and  bent  down  his  ear  to  listen.  Al- 
though the  latter  was  on  horseback  and  the  former  on  foot, 
his  tall  figure  was  almost  on  a  level  with  the  officer's  head. 

He  spoke  a  few  low  words,  the  captain  started,  and,  quickly 
raising  his  head,  he  surveyed  the  gigantic  chief  from  head  to 
foot.  He  then  conferred  with  him  a  few  moments,  after 
which  he  addressed  himself  in  a  very  embarrassed  manner  to 
Eugene. 

"  Your  highness,  this  poor  man  complains  so  piteously  of 
the  agony  he  endures,  that  it  would  be  cruel  to  detain  him 
any  longer.  If  you  have  no  objection,  I  will  send  him 
to  the  surgeon,  accompanied  by  four  of  my  men,  who, 
when  his  wound  shall  have  been  dressed,  can  reconduct  him 
hither." 

"  He  will  not  return,"  replied  Eugene,  with  a  shrug.  **  He 
wiU  find  means  to  escape  the  vigfilance  of  the  police.  So  be 
it.  Let  his  wounds  be  dressed,  and  let  him  depart  whither  he 
lists.  But  I  have  a  few  words  of  adieu  to  speak  ere  he  goes." 
80  saying,  he  approached  his  tall  adversary,  and  so  command- 
ing was  his  presence,  so  fiery  his  eye,  and  so  proud  his  de- 


40  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

meanor,  that  Eugene  of  Savoy  looked  mightier  than  the  wide- 
shouldered  giant  before  him. 

"  I  wish  merely  to  say  to  this  fellow  that  he  is  a  knave,'' 
said  the  prince.  "  Yes,  captain,  a  knave,  although  you  start 
to  hear  me  call  him  thus.  I  neither  know  his  name,  nor  wish 
to  know  it;  but  I  shall  recognize  him  among  a  thousand,  and, 
if  ever  I  meet  him  again,  I  will  give  him  a  knave's  portion— a 
sound  horsewhipping.  And  now  away  with  him !  His  pres- 
ence is  intolerable ! " 

"  I  go,"  replied  the  other,  pale  and  trembling  with  rage. 
"  But  beware,  little  priestling,  how  you  cross  my  path  I  If 
ever  you  dare  intrude  yourself  upon  my  sight,  I  will  crush 
your  diminutive  carcass  as  an  elephant  does  a  crawling 
worm !  "  He  went,  followed  by  him  who  had  claimed  him  as 
a  brother,  and  accompanied  by  four  guardsmen,  who  rode  at 
some  distance  behind  their  prisoners. 

"  And  now,  captain,"  said  Eugene,  "  since  your  sympathiz- 
ing heart  has  made  it  impossible  for  you  to  allow  justice  its 
way,  you  will,  I  presume,  see  fit  to  appoint  another  man  to  su- 
pervise the  repairing  of  my  court-yard." 

"  I  myself  will  attend  to  it,  your  highness,"  said  the  officer, 
bowing  to  his  saddle-bow.  "  Not  only  that ;  I  will  send  work- 
men to  replace  the  broken  panes  and  restore  the  window- 
frames,  so  that  by  to-morrow  no  trace  of  the  damage  done 
shall  remain." 

Eugene  laughed.  "  You  are  certainly  most  accommodat- 
ing I  As  much  so  as  if  the  city  guard  had  participated  in  the 
riot!  Adieu,  sir!  And  may  this  be  our  last  meeting  of  the 
sort!" 

Accompanied  by  his  two  domestics,  he  re-entered  the  pal- 
ace. His  twelve  men  were  at  their  posts,  and  the  countess  was 
still  standing  at  the  window  whence  she  had  witnessed  the 
scene  below. 

Eugene  dismissed  his  household,  gave  orders  to  have  his 
weapons  carefully  replaced  in  his  armory,  and  then,  with  a 
deep  inclination  to  his  mother,  he  asked  if  he  might  now  con- 
duct her  to  her  boudoir. 

She  gave  a  smiling  assent,  took  his  proffered  arm,  and 
returned  to  her  cabinet.    Once  there,  she  turned  toward  her 


BARBESIEUR  LOUVOIS.  41 

son,  and,  contemplating  him  for  the  first  time  in  her  life  with 
pride  and  admiration,  she  thanked  him  warmly  for  what  he 
had  done. 

"  My  dear  son,"  said  she,  "  I  must  congratulate  you  upon 
your  strength  of  character.  Believe  me,  you  looked  mightier 
far  than  Louvois'  overgrown  Titan.  If  he  surpassed  you  in 
stature,  your  great  soul  towered  far  above  his  lofty  person.  I 
could  not  hear  what  you  were  saying  to  those  two  men,  Eu- 
gene, but  I  read  in  the  glance  of  your  fearless  eye  that  your 
words  were  such  as  would  have  rejoiced  my  heart  to  overhear. 
In  that  moment  my  soul  went  far  out  into  the  future,  and 
there  I  saw  you  great,  glorious,  renowned.  You  know,  Eu- 
gene, that  I  have  sometimes  strange  revelations  of  things  hid- 
den from  ordinary  mortals :  I  have  visions  that  are  prophetic, 
and  I  tell  you  that  you  are  destined  to  earn  imperishable  fame. 
Go,  my  son,  and  fulfil  your  destiny !  " 

Eugene,  his  features  illumined  by  enthusiasm  and  radiant 
with  hope,  covered  his  mother's  hand  with  kisses,  and  again 
besought  her  forgiveness  for  his  unfilial  behavior  in  the  gal- 
lery. "  Dear  mother,"  said  he,  tearfully.  "  are  you  indeed  rec- 
onciled to  your  unworthy  child  ? " 

"Yes,  Eugene,  yes.  When  you  compelled  that  unwilling 
multitude  to  do  me  homage,  I  forgave  you  from  my  heart.  I 
have  always  loved  you  as  my  child,  but  from  this  day  forward 
I  honor  you  as  my  deliverer.  Come  to  my  arms  and  take  the 
mother's  loss  that  shall  consecrate  you  to  glory." 

Eugene,  intoxicated  with  happiness,  threw  himself  upon 
her  bosom,  and  was  clasped  to  her  heart.  "  With  this  kiss  I 
greet  the  hero  whose  exploits  shall  shed  new  lustre  upon  his 
princely  house.  God  bless  thee,  my  son  I  Sweeter  lips  may 
meet  thine  in  the  glow  of  a  love  more  passionate,  but  never 
will  they  kiss  thee  with  a  tenderness  more  true  than  does  thy 
proud  mother  this  day  I " 

"And  never  will  I  love  woman  more  tenderly  than  I 
do  my  precious  mother.  You  were  my  ideal  of  womanly 
perfection  as  a  child,  and  your  adored  image  will  be  my 
soul's  divinity  to  the  latest  hour  of  my  life  I  Never  again 
will  I  doubt  you;  were  the  whole  world  to  scorn  you,  I  at 
least  will  believe  in  you,  and  honor  you  with  a  faith  as 


42  PKINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

implicit  as  that  whicii  leads  man  to  martyrdom  for  his  Re- 
deemer's sake." 

*'  Believe  in  me,  and  trust  me,"  returned  the  countess,  again 
impressing  a  kiss  on  her  son's  forehead.  "  And  when  you  are 
great  and  powerful,  think  of  this  hour,  my  child.  'Tis  one  of 
the  brightest  of  my  life ;  one  of  the  few  wherein  I  have  unveiled 
my  heart  to  mortal  man.  Think  of  it,  then,  Eugene,  when 
you  wear  the  hat  of  a  cardinal,  and — " 

"  What,  mother !  You  would  devote  me  to  the  priesthood, 
after  all  that  has  passed  between  us  to-day !  " 

''  'Tis  your  only  path  to  renown ;  'tis  the  only  ladder  by 
which  ambition  can  climb  to  power.  With  Louis'  favor,  you 
may  become  a  cardinal  and  a  statesman ;  without  it  you  will 
never  become  a  field-marshal.  We  must  take  fate  as  we  find 
it,  Eugene ;  not  whine  because  we  may  not  fashion  it  to  our 
own  liking." 

"  Then  be  it  so :  I  submit.  But  I  tell  you,  for  the  last  time, 
that  under  my  priestly  gown  there  will  be  heard  the  wild  and 
unseemly  throbbings  of  a  heart  that  not  only  pants  for  glory, 
but  yearns  for  love." 

"  Cardinals  may  hope  for  both,"  returned  Olympia,  with  a 
strange,  unpleasant  smile.  "  Ask  the  widowed  Queen  Anne, 
whether  Richelieu  knew  how  to  love.  And  ask  her  whether 
Mazarin  was  not  as  fond  as  he  was  sagacious.  But  enough  of 
day-dreams :  we  must  return  to  the  affairs  of  real  life.  There 
has  been  a  demonstration  of  serious  import  against  me  to-day. 
I  must  oppose  it  by  another.  Louvois  and  his  minions  must 
learn  that  I  am  not  to  be  intimidated  by  their  menaces,  nor 
to  be  browbeaten  by  their  contumely." 

Near  her  hand,  on  a  porphyry  table,  lay  a  golden  bell — ^a 
marvel  of  Benvenuto  Cellini's  workmanship.  The  countess 
took  it  up  and  rang. 

The  steward  answered  the  summons,  and  begged  to  know 
what  her  highness  was  pleased  to  command. 

"  Let  the  palace-doors  be  thrown  open,  that  the  people  may 
know  how  little  I  fear  their  dislike.  Send  all  the  lackeys  out, 
and  let  them  announce  to  the  court  that  to-day  I  hold  a  special 
levee,  and  that  my  rooms  will  be  opened  to  visitors  at  nine  this 
evening.     Let  the  equerry  be  informed  that  in  half  an  hour  I 


THE  STATE  RECEPTION.  43 

shall  take  a  drive  in  my  open  caleche,  with  six  horses  and  two 
outriders,  all  in  livery  of  state." 

The  steward  bowed  and  left  the  room.  When  he  had  gone, 
the  countess  again  addressed  her  son :  "  In  half  an  hour  the 
wurt  will  be  assembled  at  the  Pre  aux  Clercs ;  no  doubt  it 
would  gratify  more  than  one  of  those  envious  Parisians  were 
I  absent  to-day.  But  they  shall  not  enjoy  any  such  satisfac- 
tion. They  shall  greet  me  as  usual,  and  I — I — I  intend  to  ap- 
proach the  king ! " 

"  And  I,  dearest  mother,"  said  Eugene,  "  beg  to  be  allowed 
to  accompany  you  in  your  ride." 

"  You  shall  do  so,  son  of  my  heart,"  exclaimed  Olympia, 
giving  him  her  hand.  "  I  see  that  you  are  not  only  the  child 
of  my  love,  but  bone  of  my  bone  and  flesh  of  my  flesh.  Yes, 
Eugene,  you  shall  be  my  knight,  and  no  loving  maiden  was 
ever  prouder  of  her  cavalier  than  I  shall  be  of  mine  I  " 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  STATE  RECEPTION. 

The  commands  of  the  countess  were  promptly  obeyed.  All 
Paris  (that  is,  the  Paris  of  the  aristocracy)  were  informed  that 
a  special  reception  would  be  held  at  the  Hotel  de  Soissons,  and 
messengers  were  dispatched  with  official  announcement  of  the 
same  to  the  royal  household.  The  ponderous  gates  were  flung 
wide  open  to  admit  the  carriage  of  state.  Eugene's  superb 
gelding  was  led  out  by  his  jockey ;  while  near  the  open  por- 
tiere stood  the  equerry  whose  office  it  was  to  hand  the  countess 
to  her  carriage. 

Her  turnout  was  magnificent.  The  frame  of  the  carriage 
was  of  dead  gilt,  while  above  the  burnished  wheels  rose  its 
body,  in  shape  and  color  like  the  wonderful  lily  of  the  Ama- 
zon. Its  exterior  of  snowy  whiteness  was  relieved  by  the  rich 
coloring  of  the  arms  of  Carignan  and  Soissons  emblazoned  on 
the  panels ;  the  interior  was  cushioned  with  purple  velvet  em- 
broidered in  gold.    To  this  sumptuous  vehicle  were  harnessed 


44  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

six  white  horses,  whose  head-gear  of  velvet  was  adorned  with 
ostrich-plumes  so  delicate,  that,  as  the  air  breathed  upon  them, 
they  looked  like  wreaths  of  snowy  vapor.  Perched  high  above 
the  hammer-cloth,  which  in  color  and  material  corresponded 
with  the  inner  decorations  of  the  carriage,  sat  the  chubfaced 
coachman,  his  head  buried  in  the  vast  expanse  of  a  flowing 
wig,  and  surmounted  by  a  gold-and-purple  cocked  hat.  The 
handle  of  his  coach-whip  was  of  steel  inlaid  with  gold,  and  he 
flourished  it  with  as  much  ostentation  as  if  it  had  been  the 
baton  of  a  field-marshal.  Behind  this  princely  equipage  were 
two  footmen  in  state  livery  ;  on  either  side  were  two  out- 
riders. 

The  countess  emerged  from  her  palace-doors,  clad  in  mantle 
of  sky-blue  velvet  bordered  with  gold.  She  was  followed  by 
the  prince,  who,  as  the  equerry  advanced  to  assist  his  mistress, 
gently  waved  him  away,  and  took  his  place.  Olympia  smiled 
fondly  upon  her  son,  and  with  graceful  negligence  sank  back 
among  her  luxurious  cushions. 

The  equerry  approached  for  orders.  "  Let  the  coachman 
drive  leisurely  through  the  streets,  and  still  more  slowly  when 
we  enter  the  Pre  aux  Clercs." 

Eugene  mounted  his  impatient  gelding,  and  his  mother, 
inclining  her  head  to  the  equerry,  gave  the  signal  for  their 
departure. 

Slowly  went  the  cortege,  through  the  Rue  des  Deux  Ecus 
and  along  the  Quartier  St.  Honore,  while  from  every  house, 
as  they  passed,  the  windows  were  cautiously  opened,  and 
sneering  faces  looked  down  upon  the  vain  pomp  with  which 
Olympia  de  Soissons  would  have  sustained  the  falling  ruins 
of  her  good  name. 

But  things  grew  worse,  when  the  outriders  would  have 
opened  a  passage  for  the  carriage  through  the  crowded  streets. 
As  soon  as  the  people  recognized  the  liveries,  all  the  conven- 
tional homage  with  which  they  were  accustomed  to  greet  such 
splendor,  was  transformed  into  scorn. 

"  The  poisoner !  the  poisoner ! "  they  cried.  "  She  braves  us 
in  the  open  streets !  Away  with  her  I  Away  with  the  accom- 
plice of  La  Voisin ! " 

The  object  of  all  this  contumely  preserved  an  appearance 


THE   STATE   RECEPTION.  45 

of  consummate  indifference  to  it  all;  but  her  son  I  her  un- 
happy son  blushed  with  shame  and  anger.  He  turned  his 
sympathizing  eyes  upon  her,  whom  he  believed  to  be  an  imper- 
sonation of  every  feminine  virtue,  and  she  replied  to  his  glance 
by  an  unconscious  smile. 

At  last  they  reached  the  Pre  aux  Clercs,  the  fashionable 
promenade  of  the  day.  Here  the  aristocracy  were  accustomed 
to  drive,  the  king  and  queen  invariably  appearing  there  to 
receive,  sometimes,  in  the  case  of  the  former,  to  pay  homage. 
How  often  had  he  leaned  upon  the  carriage  of  Olympia,  while 
princes  and  princesses  of  the  blood  had  been  obliged  to  wait 
behind,  until  the  Countess  de  Soissons  was  ready  to  move  on, 
and  allow  them  to  proceed  I  And  how  they  had  flattered  and 
praised,  and  curried  favor  with  the  divinity  of  the  hour  I 

"  It  must  all  be  enacted  anew,"  thought  the  ex-favorite,  as 
she  slightly  raised  her  head  to  see  if  the  king  was  in  sight 
"  The  philter  will  work :  from  the  moment  I  catch  his  eye,  he 
is  mine!    This  was  La  Voisin's  promise." 

Yes — the  royal  equipages  were  there,  at  the  other  end  of 
the  shaded  avenue,  and,  following  in  their  wake,  were  those 
of  the  court.  Olympia  cast  aside  her  nonchalance,  and  raised 
her  head  that  she  might  be  seen.  The  crisis  had  come  1  She 
was  now  to  quaff  the  intoxicating  drink  of  success,  or  drain 
the  poisoned  chalice  of  defeat  1 

She  could  see  the  very  smile  on  his  face  as  he  whispered 
flattering  words  in  the  ear  of  some  beauty  who  was  in  advance, 
and  whom  Olympia  could  not  recognize.  One  moment  more, 
and  her  equipage  would  pass !  He  would  meet  her  eye,  and 
the  passion  of  his  youth  would  be  rekindled  in  his  heart,  never 
more  to  die  out  I 

But  what  commotion  was  this  among  the  lords  and  ladies 
that  surrounded  the  king  ?  His  majesty  spoke  with  his  chief 
equerry ;  the  equerry  sprang  forward,  and  presently  the  royal 
equipages  came  rushing  by,  close,  close  to  the  caldche  of  the 
countess,  who  vainly  sought  to  meet  the  eye  of  Louis,  for  he 
was  conversing  with  the  queen,  and  his  head  was  turned 
away. 

Scarcely  had  the  royal  carriages  been  put  in  motion,  before 
the  entire  cortege  followed  at  the  same  rapid  pace.    Princes 


^Q  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

and  princesses  of  the  blood, — dukes,  counts,  and  marquises,— 
duchesses  and  marchionesses,  rushed  by  so  swiftly  that  not 
one  of  her  court  friends  had  time  to  give  so  much  as  a  pass- 
ing nod  to  her  who  nevertheless  was  allied  by  marriage  to  the 
reigning  Duke  of  Savoy. 

The  last  equipage  had  just  gone  by.  "  Is  it  the  will  of  your 
highness  that  we  follow  ? "  asked  the  equerry. 

The  countess  inclined  her  head,  and  the  equerry  passed  the 
word  to  the  coachman:  "  Follow  the  cortege."  But  the  horses 
stirred  not  a  foot. 

Eugene  repeated  the  order,  when  the  coachman  slowly 
shook  his  head.  "  Impossible,  gracious  prince,  impossible ! — 
The  countess  would  never  forgive  me,  and  I  should  be  despised 
by  every  coachman  of  distinction,  were  I  so  far  to  forget  my 
duty  as  to  suffer  that  an  equipage  bearing  the  ducal  arms  of 
Savoy  should  follow  the  carriage  of  a  nobleman  so  insignifi- 
cant as  the  Vicomte  de  Charlieu.  Why,  he  goes  back  but  ten 
generations ! " 

Eugene  smiled  and  delivered  the  portentous  message  to  his 
mother. 

"  He  is  right,"  replied  she ;  "  and  were  he  wrong,  it  would 
avail  me  nothing  to  contend  with  him  on  a  point  of  etiquette. 
The  coachmen  of  people  of  quality  are  more  tenacious  of  their 
rights  than  the  noble  families  they  serve.  Not  long  ago,  the 
Duchesses  of  Chartres  and  of  Luynes  waited  four  hours  in  the 
rain,  because,  having  met  in  a  very  narrow  street,  neither  one 
of  their  coachmen  would  back  out,  to  give  the  other  an  oppor- 
tunity of  passing.  I  must  imitate  their  patience,  and  wait  for 
the  return  of  the  cortege,  to  take  my  proper  place." 

The  decision  of  the  countess  being  transmitted  to  the 
coachman,  he  nodded  approvingly.  "  I  thought  her  highness 
would  understand,"  replied  he.  "  Our  place  is  after  the  Duch- 
ess de  Bourbon,  the  sixth  carriage  from  that  of  his  majesty. 
The  coachman  of  the  Duke  de  Cheneuse  knows  it  as  well  as  I 
do,  and  he  will  yield  us  precedence  as  soon  as  he  sees  me  ready 
to  fall  in." 

They  waited — the  countess  in  perfect  composure,  her  large 
black  eyes  cast  upward  in  complete  forgetfulness  of  the  actual 
state  of  things  around  her :  Eugene,  with  visible  annoyance 


THE  STATE  RECEPTION.  4.7 

on  his  face,  darting  anxious  and  uneasy  glances  down  the 
avenue  through  which  the  king  was  expected  to  return.  And 
so  passed  an  hour,  at  the  end  of  which  the  avenue  was  still 
and  empty  as  a  desert.  It  now  became  apparent  that  his  ma- 
jesty had  selected  some  other  route  by  which  to  reach  the 
Louvre,  and  Olympia,  awaking  from  her  golden  day-dreams, 
began  to  realize  the  exceeding  awkwardness  of  her  position. 
For  the  first  time  her  heart  faltered,  and  a  cloud  passed  over 
her  face. 

Eugene  rode  up  to  the  portiere,  and  addressing  the  countess 
in  Italian :  "  Mother,"  said  he,  "  if  we  remain  here  any  longer, 
I  shall  choke  with  rage." 

"  Home,"  said  Olympia  to  the  equerry.  "  Home  I  Quick  I 
Urge  your  horses  to  their  fullest  speed !  " 

On  the  evening  of  that  eventful  day,  every  reception-room 
in  the  Hotel  Soissons  was  thrown  open,  and  the  palace  front 
was  one  blaze  of  light.  But  the  steward  had  been  obliged  to 
close  the  gates,  and  station  four  armed  men  within  them,  to 
protect  the  entrance  from  the  rabble  who  had  again  begun  to 
assemble,  again  begun  to  threaten. 

The  countess  was  either  ignorant  of  this  unpleasant  cir- 
cumstance, or  she  considered  it  beneath  her  notice.  From  her 
carriage  she  had  passed  to  her  cabinet,  whence  she  had  never 
emerged  until  compelled  to  make  her  toilet  for  the  evening. 
Her  temporary  discouragement  overcome,  she  entered  the 
throne-room  magnificently  attired,  sparkling  with  jewels,  and 
radiant  with  feverish  expectation.  She  was  still  upheld  by 
the  confidence  she  reposed  in  La  Voisin's  predictions,  and  the 
firm  faith  with  which  she  clung  to  the  virtues  of  her  philter. 

She  could  not,  however,  repress  the  scowl  that  darkened  her 
brow,  as,  glancing  around  her  vast  suite  of  empty  rooms,  she 
beheld  not  one  visitor ! — no  living  being  besides  her  own  three 
daughters,  the  y^oung  Princesses  de  Carignan,  who  came  for- 
ward to  kiss  her  hand,  and  pay  her  their  tribute  of  affectionate 
admiration. 

She  paid  very  Jittle  attention  to  their  sweet  flattery ;  her 
restless  eyes  wandered  from  door  to  door,  where  not  a  form 
was  seen  but  those  of  the  four  lackeys,  who  were  in  waiting 
to  announce  the  distinguished  guests  as  they  arrived. 


48  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  niS  TIMES. 

The  mocking  echo  of  her  tread,  as  she  traversed  the  void 
which  should  have  been  filled  with  a  courtly  throng,  sounded 
ominous  in  her  ear,  and  the  haughty  woman  began  to  quail. 
She  had  heard  it  said  that  when  a  ship  was  doomed  to  destruc- 
tion, no  rats  were  ever  known  to  leave  port  in  its  hold.  Was 
she  a  sinking  ship  ?  Was  her  doom  sealed  ?  Once  more  her 
longing  eyes  sought  the  lofty,  open  doors,  through  which  so 
often  the  court  had  passed  to  do  her  homage  on  her  throne, 
and  she  shivered  almost  perceptibly.  But  she  forced  a  smile, 
and  observed  to  her  eldest  daughter:  "  Our  guests  are  unusu- 
ally late  to-night.  Even  the  Duchess  de  Bouillon,  generally 
so  punctual,  has  not  yet  made  her  appearance." 

"  Even  your  adorer,  Marshal  de  Luxemburg,  mamma,  is 
not  yet  here,"  returned  the  princess,  with  a  smile. 

The  countess  looked  sharply  at  her  daughter.  Why  had 
she  mentioned  the  name  of  De  Luxemburg  ?  Why  named 
him  in  conjunction  with  the  Duchess  de  Bouillon  ?  Did  Jo- 
hanna know  that  these  two  were  her  confidants,  and  that  they 
were  siccustomed  to  visit  La  Voisin  together  ?  That  only  five 
days  before,  they  had  met  in  the  den  of  the  soothsayer,  to  have 
their  horoscope  drawn  for  the  last  time  ?  Did  Johanna  know 
that  through  De  Luxemburg's  efforts  Louis's  valet  had  been 
bribed  to  rob  him  of  a  lock  of  his  hair,  without  which  the 
precious  philter  could  never  have  been  distilled  ?  Oh,  no! 
She  was  silly — nervous — the  events  of  the  day  had  disheart- 
ened her,  and  she  was  growing  to  be  a  craven.  How  should 
Johanna  know  her  secrets  ?  The  allusion  to  the  marshal  was 
accidental. 

The  wax-lights  were  growing  fearfully  short,  and  still  the 
invited  guests  tarried.  Never  in  her  life  before  had  Olympia 
condescended  to  rest  her  gaze  upon  the  faces  of  those  who 
served  her;  to-night  she  could  not  resist  an  inclination  to 
glance  for  one  moment  at  their  countenances.  As  she  looked 
athwart  those  features,  erst  so  submissive  and  so  reverent,  she 
saw  significant  smirks,  and  an  expression  of  disdain  for  which 
she  could  have  felled  them  to  the  earth. 

Meanwhile  the  three  princesses,  their  lips  distorted  with 
forced  smiles,  stood  around  their  mother,  sometimes  raising 
their  anxious  eyes  to  her  stormy  face,  sometimes  exchanging 


THE  STATE  RECEPTION.  49 

uneasy  glances  one  with  another ;  hut  not  one  of  them  daring 
to  break  the  oppressive  silence  by  a  single  word. 

At  last  the  painful  lull  was  broken  by  a  slight  rustling.  The 
door  of  the  anteroom  was  opened,  and  a  solitary  figure  was 
seen  traversing  the  long  suite  of  apartments. 

"  Eugene,"  exclaimed  Johanna.  "  Our  little  abbe  I "  xVnd, 
delighted  to  put  an  end  to  their  embarrassment,  the  sisters 
went  forward  with  outstretched  hands  to  meet  him. 

But  Eugene  could  not  respond  to  their  greeting.  His  eyes 
were  fixed  upon  the  chandelier,  under  whose  blaze  he  beheld 
a  pale,  sinister  face,  and  a  tall,  haughty  figure ;  his  mother, 
attired  with  regal  splendor,  looking  every  inch  a  queen ;  but 
ah  !  a  dethroned  queen,  for  her  subjects  had  deserted  her. 
and  among  them  '*  there  was  none  so  poor  to  do  her  rever- 
ence." 

He  approached  her,  and,  as  she  silently  extended  her  icy 
hand,  he  covered  it  with  loving  kisses.  "I  had  hardly  ex- 
pected tc  find  my  dear  mother  here  before  me,"  said  he,  with 
a  smile. 

"  Why  so,  Eugene  ? "  asked  Olympia. 

"  Because  the  hour  for  your  reception  was  fixed  for  nine 
o'clock,  and  it  has  not  yet  struck  nine." 

"  The  countess  glanced  quickly  at  the  clock  on  the  sculp- 
tured mantel-piece.     "  It  is  almost  ten,"  said  she. 

'*  Your  clock  is  nearly  an  hour  too  fast,"  said  Eugene,  who 
had  followed  the  direction  of  his  mother's  eyes.  And  he  drew 
out  his  own  watch. 

She  looked  at  it  a  moment.  "  True — your  watch  is  slow, 
Eugene.  You  knew,  then,  before  you  came  hither,  that  no 
one  had  yet  arrived  ? " 

"  Dear  mother,"  responded  Eugene,  "  you  think — " 

"  I  think  that  you  are  a  tender,  loving  son,"  said  she,  inter- 
rupting him.  "  But  it  is  not  necessary  to  deceive  me,  dear 
boy.  I  know  that  it  is  almost  an  hour  past  the  time  I  had 
appointed ;  but  that  signifies  nothing.  It  was  not  known  until 
late  that  I  would  receive  to-night,  and  this  is  the  reception- 
day  of  the  Duchess  de  Luynes.  My  guests  will  naturally  have 
gone  thither  first,  and  they  will  come  later  to  us." 

"  You  are  quite  right,"  replied  Eugene.    "  But  would  it  not 


50  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

be  better  for  you  to  retire  to  your  cabinet  and  rest  until  the 
company  arrive  ?  I  will  call  you  as  soon  as  the  rooms  begin 
to  fill." 

She  shook  her  head  slowly.  "  No — I  remain  here.  It 
would  be  cowardly  to  retire  now.  Let  us  calmly  await  our 
distinguished  guests.     They  will  be  coming  very  soon." 

Eugene  bowed  his  head  in  obedience  to  her  commands,  and 
stationed  himself  by  the  side  of  his  sisters.  There  was  another 
long  silence,  interrupted  by  the  slow,  inflexible  strokes  of  the 
clock,  which  announced  the  hour  of  "ten." 

Great  drops  of  anguish  stood  out  upon  the  pale,  high  fore- 
head of  the  prince,  and  his  sisters  could  no  longer  restrain 
their  tears.  The  countess  alone  looked  resolute :  her  features 
betrayed  no  emotion  whatever;  but  about  her  mouth  there 
hovered  a  vindictive  smile,  and  in  her  eyes  there  was  a  light 
like  that  which  glitters  in  the  serpent's  head  that  looks  out 
from  the  deadly  jungles  of  India. 

"  Would  that  I  could  breathe  poison  into  the  veins  of  yon- 
der staring  menials  at  the  door  ! "  said  she  to  herself. 
*'  Would  that  I  could  blind  their  staring  eyes  with  lightning  ! 
But  for  them  I  might  leave  this  fiery  furnace  of  shame,  and 
hide  my  face  within  the  privacy  of  my  own  room  ! " 

A  sound  was  heard  without,  and  the  Princess  Joanna  un- 
consciously clasped  her  hands  with  delight,  exclaiming, 
"  There  comes  a  carriage  !  " 

The  countess  turned  around,  and  glanced  fiercely  at  her 
unsophisticated  daughter.  "  Is  there  anything  remarkable  in 
the  sound  of  a  carriage,  that  it  should  occasion  so  much  joy, 
mademoiselle  ?  Are  carriages  so  rare  within  the  gates  of  the 
Hotel  Soissons  ? " 

The  door  opened,  and  the  gentleman-usher,  with  his  gilded 
staff,  appeared  on  the  threshold. 

"  Madame  la  Marquise  Dupont  de  Lanin,"  cried  he,  and  the 
lady  followed  the  announcement  at  once. 

Often  had  the  poor  old  marquise  attended  the  levees  of  the 
Countess  de  Soissons,  but  never  before  had  she  been  accorded 
so  distinguished  a  reception.  She  was  tolerated  in  the  salons 
of  Paris  on  account  of  her  high  birth  and  connections  ;  added 
to  which  she  had  a  tongue  in  her  mouth  like  a  two-edged 


THE  STATE  RECEPTION.  51 

sword,  which  flew  hither  and  thither  about  the  reputations  of 
those  who  slighted  or  forgot  her  claims  to  courtesy. 

To-night  she  was  most  graciously,  most  cordially  wel- 
comed. Like  the  dove  which  brought  the  olive-branch  to 
Noah,  the  marquise  was  a  messenger  from  dry  land.  The 
waters  had  subsided — the  deluge  of  their  troubles  was  over. 

With  wreathed  smiles  and  flattering  words,  Olympia  came 
forward  to  greet  her  first  guest.  The  old  marquise  received 
the  unprecedented  attention  paid  her  without  the  least  mani- 
festation of  surprise.  With  her  sharp  old  eyes,  she  traversed 
the  empty  vastness  of  the  gilded  halls  that  were  wont  to 
swarm  with  the  cr&me  de  la  cr^me  of  Paris,  and  understood 
the  matter  at  once.  She  had  scarcely  had  time  to  reciprocate 
the  politeness  of  her  hostess  before  two  other  carriages  rolled 
into  the  court-yard  and  two  more  distinguished  names  were 
announced  by  the  usher. 

This  time  an  old  duchess  and  an  equally  venerable  vis^ 
count  entered  the  room  of  state.  Their  social  status  was  sim* 
ilar  to  that  of  the  marquise:  they  belonged  to  the  species 
whom  the  world  is  compelled  to  invite,  but  whom  it  detests, 
because  they  never  have  been  known  to  decline  an  invitation. 
But  they,  too,  were  heartily  welcomed,  and,  by  one  not  ini- 
tiated in  the  mysteries  of  the  hour,  they  would  have  been  set 
down  as  the  countess's  dearest  friends. 

Eugene  took  no  part  in  the  conversation  which  ensued. 
He  had  again  resumed  his  taciturn  and  unsocial  demeanor, 
and  now,  with  folded  arms,  he  stood  in  the  deep  recess  of  a 
curtained  window,  sometimes  looking  gloomily  out  into  the 
night,  anon  glancing  at  the  little  knot  of  adventurers,  and  per- 
sonages of  doubtful  reputation,  who  occasionally  added  an- 
other to  the  meagre  group  that  were  around  his  mother. 
Olympia  strgve  to  converse  gayly  with  her  assemblage  of  in- 
Bupportables,  but  she  was  chafing  like  an  infuriated  lioness. 

"  If  Marianna  and  De  Luxemburg  would  but  come  I  I 
might,  at  least,  learn  how  I  stand  at  court,  and  find  out  why 
the  king  returned  to  the  Louvre  by  an  unusual  route.  Heav- 
ens I  bow  long  will  I  be  able  to  smile  upon  these  hateful 
bores  ?   How  long  sustain  the  burden  of  this  insufferable  lie  ?  '* 

The  evening  waned,  and  neither  Marianna,  De  Luxemburg, 


52  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

nor  any  other  member  of  the  court  circle  appeared,  to  silence 
the  apprehensions  or  soothe  the  womided  pride  of  the  haughty 
Countess  de  Soissons.  But  late — very  late — when  she  had  re- 
linquished all  hopes  of  another  arrival,  the  doors  were  flung 
open,  and  the  usher,  in  a  loud  voice,  announced  :  "  His  high- 
ness the  Duke  de  Bouillon  ! " 


CHAPTER  Vn. 

HELP  IN  TIME  OF  NEED. 

Olympia,  who,  with  three  or  four  wrinkled  old  fops,  and 
as  many  withered  dames,  had  just  taken  her  seat  at  a  card- 
table,  kissed  her  hand,  and  received  her  brother-in-law,  with  a 
profusion  of  smiles  such  as  never  before  had  greeted  his  en- 
trance into  the  salons  of  the  Hotel  Soissons. 

He  seemed  to  be  totally  unconscious  of  her  blandishments, 
as,  with  a  slight  inclination  to  the  company,  he  came  very 
close  to  the  hostess,  and,  regardless  of  etiquette,  whispered 
something  in  her  ear. 

His  communication  must  have  been  of  a  nature  to  excite 
mirth,  for  she  threw  back  her  head,  and,  laughing  rather  more 
boisterously  than  was  her  wont,  rose  quickly  from  her  seat. 

"  Of  course,  my  dear  duke,"  said  she,  so  as  to  be  heard  by 
all  who  were  around  ;  "  of  course  you  shall  have  the  drops 
for  my  sister.  I  regret  to  hear  that  she  needs  them.  Come 
with  me  to  my  cabinet,  and  you  shall  receive  them  from  my 
hand.  I  will  even  taste  them  in  your  presence,  that  they  may 
not  be  suspected  of  containing  poison.  Follow  me,  if  my  kind 
friends  will  excuse  us  for  a  few  moments." 

With  a  graceful  bend  of  her  head,  the  countess  crossed  the 
room,  and  disappeared  with  her  brother-in-law.  From  the 
window  to  which  he  had  retired,  Eugene  had  seen  and  heard 
what  was  passing,  and  in  the  stern  expression  of  the  Duke  de 
Bouillon's  face  he  had  read  something  of  more  significance 
than  a  whispered  request  for  headache-drops.  No  sooner  had 
his  mother  left  the  room  than  he  followed  her,  and  as  she  was 


HELP  m  TIME  OF  NEED.  53 

about  to  enter  her  cabinet,  he  laid  his  hand  upon  hoc  shoul- 
der : 

"  Pardon,  dear  mother,"  said  he,  in  fond  and  deprecating 
tones.  ''I  merely  wish  to  say,  that  during  your  interview 
with  my  uncle,  I  will  remain  in  the  little  room  adjoining. 
You  may  want  me,  perchance,  to  execute  some  commission- 
it  may  be  to  bear  an  apology  to  our  guests." 

^  It  will  be  better  for  Prince  Eugene  to  take  part  in  our 
conference,"  said  the  duke,  with  his  usual  moroseness.  He  is 
the  only  son  you  have  in  Paris,  and,  as  the  representative  of 
the  family,  it  is  proper  for  him  to  hear  what  I  am  about  to 
communicate." 

"  I  consent,"  replied  Olympia,  calmly.  "  I  have  no  secrets 
from  my  son,  and  your  highness  may  speak  without  reserve 
what  you  have  come  hither  at  this  unusual  hour  to  say." 

With  these  words  she  entered  her  cabinet,  the  others  fol- 
lowing silently  behind.  The  duke  closed  the  door  and  looked 
around,  to  see  that  there  were  no  other  occupants  of  the  room. 
He  peered  curiously  at  the  heavy  folds  of  the  satin  curtains 
which  concealed  the  windows,  and,  having  satisfied  himself 
that  no  listeners  lurked  behind,  he  spoke. 

"  You  are  quite  sure  that  we  cannot  be  overheard  ? "  said 
he,  addressing  the  countess. 

"  Perfectly  sure,"  replied  she.  "  Of  these  walls  it  may  be 
said,  that,  unlike  walls  of  ordinary  construction,  they  have  no 
ears.  Speak  without  apprehension.  But  above  all  things  let 
us  be  seated." 

"No,  madarae,  let  us  remain  as  we  are,  and  hearken  to 
my  words.  You  know  that  La  Voisin  was  arrested  last 
night." 

"  I  know  it.  Monsieur  Louvois  brought  me  the  news  this 
morning,  and  it  was  corroborated  by  the  rabble  that  attacked 
us  not  long  after  his  departure  from  the  palace.  It  is  said  that 
La  Voisin  is  a  toxicologist,  and  that  she  has  been  in  the  habit 
of  selling  poison  to  her  patrons.  Was  this  what  you  came 
to  say  y" 

"With  this  I  intended  to  open  my  communication,  ma- 
dame.  That  La  Voisin  has  trafficked  in  poisons  is  proved, 
and  she  ¥rill  assuredly  mount  the  scaffold  for  her  crimes.    But 


54  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

the  next  point  is  to  inquire  to  whom  her  poudre  de  succes- 
sion has  been  sold." 

"  Has  the  question  been  put  to  La  Voisin  ? "  asked  the 
countess,  carelessly.  "They  have  only  to  inquire  of  her; 
doubtless  she  will  reveal  the  names  of  her  friends." 

The  duke  came  nearer,  and  looked  sternly  in  her  face. 
"The  question  has  been  asked,  and  it  has  been  answered, 
madame." 

The  countess  shuddered,  but  recovered  herself  instantane- 
ously. Momentary  as  it  was,  however,  Eugene  had  seen  the 
motion,  and  now  his  large  dark  eyes  were  fixed  upon  his  uncle 
with  a  look  of  steady  defiance. 

"  The  confessions  of  La  Voisin  can  be  of  no  significance  to 
the  Countess  de  Soissins,"  said  he,  haughtily.  "She  cannot 
have  made  any  declaration  that  would  compromise  a  noble 
lady!" 

"Nevertheless  she  has  compromised  one  of  the  noblest 
names  in  France,"  returned  the  duke.  "She  was  forced  to 
reveal  the  names  of  her  confederates." 

"  Yes !  they  have  been  as  cruel  as  they  were  to  poor  Brin- 
villiers ;  they  have  taken  her  to  the  chambre  ardente  !  "  cried 
the  countess,  in  a  trembling  voice. 

"Yes,  madame,  she  was  taken  to  the  chambre  ardente, 
stretched  upon  the  rack,  and  then  she  confessed." 

"  Confessed  what  ? "  gasped  Olympia. 

"  She  confessed  to  have  sold  her  poudre  de  succession ;  to 
have  foretold  the  future,  and  to  have  prepared  love-philters." 

"  I  do  not  know  that  there  is  treason  in  drawing  horoscopes 
and  brewing  love-philters,"  returned  the  countess,  with  a 
forced  laugh. 

"  It  is  treason  to  brew  love-philters,  when  they  are  designed 
to  take  effect  upon  the  King  of  France^"  replied  the  duke.  "  It 
is  also  treason  to  steal  a  lock  of  his  hair  wherewith  to  prepare 
the  philter." 

"  Did  she  say  this  ? "  screamed  the  countess^  with  the  fe- 
rocity of  a  tigress  at  bay. 

"  She  did.  The  lock  of  hair  was  obtained  by  Marshal  Lux- 
emburg, who  bribed  the  valet  of  his  majesty ;  the  philter  was 
prepared  for  the  Countess  de  Soissons." 


HELP  IN  TIME  OF  NEED.  55 

"  Her  tortures  must  then  have  unsettled  her  reason,"  cried 
Olympia.  "  To  end  her  agony,  the  poor  delirious  wretch  has 
confessed  any  thing  that  her  executioners  may  have  sug- 


"You  are  mistaken.  When  she  had  fully  recovered  her 
senses,  she  repeated  her  declaration  word  for  word.  She  sig- 
nalized three  persons  as  her  trustiest  confidants.  Two  of  tlie 
three  were  her  accomplices;  the  third  is  merely  accused  of 
having  made  use  of  La  Voisin  to  raise  the  devil.  The  two 
who  are  accused  of  murder  are  Monsieur  de  Luxemburg  and 
Madame  de  Soissons." 

"  The  third  ? "  said  Olympia,  hoarsely. 

"My  own  wife,"  returned  the  duke,  mournfully.  "Not 
having  been  accused  of  crime,  she  has  not  been  sent  to  the 
Bastile;  his  majesty  has  graciously  permitted  her  to  be  im- 
prisoned in  her  own  hotel." 

"Not  sent  to  the  Bastile!"  echoed  the  countess,  with  a 
shudder.     "  Has — any  one  been — sent  there  ? " 

"Yes.  Two  hours  ago  Monsieur  de  Luxemburg  was  ar- 
rested, and  he  is  now  there  in  a  criminal's  cell." 

The  countess  uttered  a  cry  of  anguish,  and  tottered  to  a 
seat,  for  her  trembling  limbs  refused  to  support  her.  She  put 
her  hand  to  her  head,  and  looked  wildly  around. 

"  And  1  ?-am  I  to  be  arrested  ? " 

"Yes,  madame.  The  lettre  de  cachet  has  been  sent  by 
Louvois  to  the  king,  and—" 

"And  the  king!"  said  Olympia,  abnost  inaudibly. 

"His  majesty  has  signed  it." 

The  countess  pressed  her  hands  upon  her  heart,  and  then, 
suddenly  springing  to  her  feet,  she  burst  into  a  loud,  frenzied 
laugh.  "He  has  signed!  He  has  signed! — And  you — you—" 
muttered  she,  with  a  scowl  at  the  duke,  "  did  you  offer  to  act 
as  bailiff  for  the  king  ? " 

As  though  he  would  have  confronted  a  world  to  shield  her 
from  harm,  Eugene  threw  his  arm  around  bis  mother*s  waist, 
and  stood  between  the  two. 

"  If  such  be  your  errand,  Duke  de  Bouillon,  you  must  first 
be  the  assassin  of  her  son.  No  blow  shall  reach  her,  until  it 
shall  have  pierced  the  heart  of  her  only  protector  I " 


56  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

"  Not  so  grandiloquent,  my  little  abbe,"  replied  De  Bouillon, 
superciliously.  "  Methinks,  were  I  so  disposed,  I  might  snap 
the  feeble  thread  of  your  existence,  without  any  extraordinary 
display  of  valor,  but  I  have  no  desire  to  deprive  the  countess 
of  so  valiant  a  knight.  I  come,  not  to  arrest,  but  to  deliver 
her.  I  come  to  save  herself  from  the  headsman,  her  family 
from  the  foul  blot  of  her  public  execution." 

"  Avenging  God ! "  murmured  the  miserable  woman. 

"You  must  fly,  Olympia,"  continued  the  duke,  compas- 
sionating her  fearful  condition,  "you  must  fly,  and  without 
delay." 

"Fly!"  exclaimed  Eugene,  furiously.  "Because  a  de- 
graded wretch  like  that  La  Voisin,  in  her  delirium  of  agony, 
has  spoken  the  name  of  the  Countess  de  Soissons,  she  shall  be- 
come a  fugitive  from  justice  ?  No,  mother,  no !  Remain  to 
confound  your  calumniators,  and,  with  the  good  sword  of 
Right,  and  Truth,  pierce  the  vile  falsehood  to  its  heart's 
core ! " 

The  duke  shook  his  head.  "Let  not  ill-advised  heroism 
tempt  you  to  defy  your  legions  of  accusers.  Be  you  innocent 
or  guilty,  you  are  prejudged,  and  will  be  condemned.  Believe 
me,  the  danger  is  urgent,  and  it  were  sheer  imbecility  to  con- 
front it." 

"You  say  the  king  has  signed  ? "  replied  she,  with  a  vacant 
stare.  Then  clasping  her  hands,  she  burst  into  a  flood  of 
tears,  repeating  o'er  and  o'er  the  piteous  words,  "  Oh  no  I  No  I 
No !    It  cannot  be  I    It  cannot  be ! " 

"  Nevertheless,  he  has  done  it ;  done  it  at  the  instigation  of 
Louvois  and  De  Montespan.  But  mark  me  well,  and  you  too, 
abbe — listen  to  what  I  am  about  to  say.  The  king  himself  it 
was  who  sent  me  hither  to  warn  you ;  it  is  he  who  urges  you 
to  flight.  That  you  may  have  time  to  escape,  the  lettre  de 
cachet  is  not  to  go  into  effect  until  to-morrow  morning.  But 
the  morrow  is  close  at  hand :  hark ! — the  clock  strikes  eleven, 
and  you  have  but  one  hour.  If  after  midnight  you  are  found 
within  the  gates  of  Paris,  your  doom  is  certain.  The  spies  of 
Louvois  are  close  at  hand ;  they  watch  before  your  palace- 
gates,  and  await  the  twelfth  stroke  of  the  iron  tongue  that 
speaks  from  the  towers  of  Notre  Dame,  to  force  their  way  into 


HELP  IN  TIME  OF  NEED.  57 

the  very  room  wherein  we  stand.  If  they  pass  the  threshold 
of  the  palace  you  ai-e  irretrievably  lost! " 

The  countess  spoke  not  a  word  in  reply.  They  scarcely 
knew  whether  she  had  understood  the  terrible  import  of  the 
duke's  appeal.  She  had  remained  motionless,  almost  breath- 
less; her  face  white  as  death,  her  large  orbs  distended  to  their 
utmost,  gazing,  not  upon  the  tangible  objects  that  were  before 
them,  but  upon  some  fearful  pageant  that  was  passing  within 
the  shadowy  precincts  of  her  soul. 

Her  lips  began  to  move,  and  she  muttered  incoherent 
words.  '*  Ah !  is  it  so  ? "  said  she,  almost  inaudibly.  "  The  end 
of  that  bright  dream  I  The  philter !  What  1 "  cried  she  with 
sudden  energy,  "  he  warns  me  ?  He  grants  me — one— one 
hour  1 "  And  then,  overpowered  by  the  i-eality  of  her  supreme 
desolation,  she  opened  her  arms,  and  looked  defiantly  above,  as 
if  invoking  the  wrath  of  that  Heaven  which  had  forsaken 
her. 

"Olympia,"  said  the  duke,  touching  her  arm,  "you  have 
but  three-quarters  of  an  hour  to  quit  Paris." 

"  Dear  mother,"  implored  Eugene,  "  decide  quickly  whether 
you  go  or  remain." 

She  shuddered,  and,  with  a  deep  sigh,  suffered  her  arms  to 
fall  listlessly  at  her  side. 

"I  must  drink  of  this  chalice  of  humiliation,"  said  she, 
mournfully.     "I  must  fly." 

A  groan  of  anguish  broke  from  the  depths  of  Eugene's  suf- 
fering heart,  while  a  strange  look  shot  athwart  the  counte- 
nance of  the  duke.  The  groan  was  that  of  faith  that  faltered  ; 
the  glance  was  that  of  doubt  made  certainty. 

"  I  must  make  my  escape,"  iterated  Olympia  in  a  tone  more 
resolute.  "  If  Louvois  has  effected  the  arrest  of  a  woman  al- 
lied to  the  royal  family,  it  is  because  he  is  secure  of  her  con- 
viction. Rather  than  become  his  victim,  I  will  endure  the 
shame  of  flight  Time  enough  remains  to  me  for  justifica- 
tion."* 

'* Justification  shall  come  through  me  I"  cried  Eugene, 
raising  his  right  hand  as  though  taking  an  oath. 

*  The  coantew's  own  words.'-fiee  Amad^e  Ken^  "  Tho  Nieces  o{  Ma* 
zaiin,^  p.  a07. 


58  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

"Countess,  countess,"  urged  De  Bouillon,  "you  have  but 
half  an  hour." 

"You  are  right,"  returned  Olympia,  summoning  all  her 
resolution  to  her  aid.  "Time  is  flying,  and  I  must  be  dili- 
gent." 

"  I  promised  his  majesty  not  to  leave  you  until  you  were 
on  your  way,  Olympia,"  was  the  duke's  reply,  "and  I  shall 
remain  to  fulfil  my  promise." 

"And  I,  mother,"  added  Eugene,  "will  never  leave  you 
until  you  are  in  perfect  safety." 

"Then  let  us  prepare,"  was  Olympia's  rejoinder.  "You, 
duke,  be  so  kind  as  to  collect  my  papers  and  money.  They 
are  in  that  ebony  secretary  at  your  elbow.  Here  are  the  keys. 
You  will  find  a  casket  therein,  where  all  that  you  find  may  be 
deposited  for  the  present.  I  myself  will  gather  up  my  jewels 
and  such  clothing  as  cannot  be  dispensed  with.  Eugene,  my 
son,  go  at  once  to  the  stables  :  order  my  travelling-chariot, 
and  see  that  eight  of  my  swiftest  horses  are  attached  to  it.  In 
Brussels  I  shall  find  a  friend  in  the  Spanish  viceroy.  Send 
forward  relays  to  Rheims  and  Namur  ;  and  let  the  men  be 
clad  in  liveries  of  dark  gray.  Hasten,  my  son  ;  before  half  an 
hour,  I  must  be  hence  !  " 

When  Eugene  returned,  he  found  his  mother  waiting. 
The  duke  hastily  threw  over  her  shoulders  a  travelling-cloak 
bordered  with  fur,  and  Olympia,  drawing  the  hood  closely 
around  her  face,  prepared  to  quit  the  room. 

"  Shall  I  not  call  my  sisters  to  bid  you  adieu  ? "  asked  her 
son. 

"No,"  said  she,  calmly.  "Their  absence  would  be  re- 
marked, and  nothing  must  arouse  the  suspicion  of  my  guests. 
I  leave  to  you,  Monsieur  de  Bouillon,  the  task  of  communi- 
cating my  flight  to  my  daughters.  May  I  request  you  to  bear 
a  message  to  the  king  also  ?  Tell  him  that  whenever  he  will 
pass  his  royal  word  that  I  may  return  without  danger  of  incar- 
ceration, I  shall  be  ready  to  appear  before  my  accusers,  and 
defend  my  calumniated  reputation.*  Give  me  your  arm, — and 
yours,  Eugene  :  we  are  late." 

Silently,  and  without  a  single  expression  of  regret,  she  went 

♦  Her  own  words.— See  the  "  Letters  of  Madame  de  S6vigne,"  vol.  iiL 


HELP  m  TIME  OF  NEED.  59 

through  the  lofty  corridors  of  the  hotel,  until  she  reached  the 
private  staircase  by  which  Eugene  had  passed  to  the  street 
that  morning.  The  servants  had  assembled  to  bid  her  adieu, 
and,  as  they  tendered  their  good  wishes,  she  bent  her  lofty 
head  with  the  condescension  of  a  queen.  Before  descending, 
she  addressed  a  few  words  to  the  steward  : 

"  I  am  forced  to  leave  Paris  for  a  time,  Latour.  My  ene- 
mies refuse  me  the  poor  privilege  of  remaining  here  to  refute 
the  absurd  charges  preferred  against  me  by  the  senseless  rab- 
ble that  are  in  their  pay.  During  my  absence,  I  leave  you  in 
full  conunand  of  my  household.  You  shall  receive  your 
wages  until  you  decide  to  seek  employment  elsewhere.  Fare- 
well all!" 

The  chariot  with  eight  superb  horses  was  at  the  postern, 
and  around  it  stood  the  lackeys  in  their  liveries  of  sombre 
gray.  The  countess  took  her  seat  in  the  carriage,  and,  bend- 
ing forward  to  kiss  her  son,  said,  "  Bear  my  greetings  to  your 
sisters,  Eugene." 

"  Will  my  gracious  uncle  accept  this  commission  ? "  asked 
he,  turning  to  the  duke. 

"  Why  not  you  ? "  asked  Olympia. 

"  Because  my  place  is  with  you,  dearest  mother,"  was  the 
simple  reply  of  her  devoted  child,  while  he  took  his  seat  at 
her  side. 

"  It  is  right,"  remarked  the  duke,  "  and  I  begin  to  feel  con- 
siderable respect  for  our  little  abbe  ! " 

"  I  shall  compel  respect  from  more  than  the  Duke  de  Bou- 
illon," thought  his  nephew. 

*^  Farewell ! "  said  Olympia,  with  as  much  self-possession 
as  if  she  had  been  starting  for  a  tour  of  pleasure.  "  Tell  the 
king  that  I  forget  to  pity  my  own  impotence  in  compassion- 
ating his." 

The  carriage  rolled  away,  first  under  the  illuminated  win- 
dows of  the  rooms  of  state,  where  the  unconscious  Princesses 
de  Carignan  were  doing  their  best  to  entertain  the  motley  as- 
semblage, that  had  been  so  suddenly  deserted  by  their  mother; 
then  along  the  dimly-lighted  streets  where  Eugene's  heart 
beat  with  painful  apprehension  lest  the  crowd  should  rec- 
ognize the  fugitive  ;  then  they  entered  the  avenue  where  the 


60  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

court  had  turned  its  back  upon  Olympia  and  her  extravagant 
hopes,  and  at  last — they  reached  the  gates. 

Meanwhile  the  Duke  de  Bouillon  had  returned  to  the  salons, 
where  he  announced  the  departure  of  the  countess  to  her 
guests  ;  the  servants  had  dispersed,  and  returned  to  their  usual 
employments,  all  except  one,  who  crept  stealthily  out,  and, 
turning  the  corner,  advanced  a  few  paces  into  a  dark  and  nar- 
row alley.     Two  horsemen  were  waiting  his  appearance  there. 

"  Has  she  gone  ? "  asked  one. 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  man  ;  "  and  relays  have  been  ordered  to 
hasten  her  escape." 

"  What  route  did  she  take  ? " 

"  She  goes  to  Brussels,  by  the  way  of  Rheims,  Rocroy,  and 
Namur." 

"  Here  are  your  four  louis  d'ors." 

With  these  words,  the  twp  horsemen  galloped  away,  turn- 
ing their  horses'  heads  toward  the  palace  of  the  minister  of 
war.  In  the  porte-cochere  stood  Louvois  himself,  who,  motion- 
ing them  not  to  dismount,  spoke  a  few  low  words,  and  then 
handed  to  each  one  a  package  of  letters  and  a  purse  of  gold. 

"Fly  with  all  speed,"  said  he,  in  his  parting  injunctions. 
"Kill  as  many  horses  as  you  list — I  pay  for  their  carcasses  ; 
but  see  that  at  every  station  you  arrive  a  full  hour  before  the 
countess." 

He  then  entered  his  carriage,  and  drove  to  the  Louvre  to 
inform  the  king  that  his  royal  commands  had  been  obeyed, 
and  that  the  Countess  de  Soissons  had  been  suffered  to  escape. 

As  the  chariot  that  was  bearing  away  the  disgraced  Olympia 
drove  through  the  barrier  and  entered  upon  the  high-road,  the 
two  horsemen  galloped  past,  and  so  completely  did  they  dis- 
tance the  unhappy  travellers,  that  in  a  few  moments  the  echo 
of  their  horses'  feet  had  died  away  into  silence. 


THE  FLIGHT.  61 

CHAPTER  Vm. 
THE  FLIGHT. 

It  was  a  glorious  night — a  night  of  sapphire  skies,  radiant 
with  stellar  diamonds — one  of  those  nights  whose  beauty  in- 
tensifies pleasure,  and  whose  gentle  influence  soothes  pain  ; 
which,  to  the  joyous  heart  seem  to  prefigure  heaven  ;  to  the 
sorrowing  are  like  the  healing  touch  of  the  Almighty  hand, 
which,  in  exceeding  love,  has  stricken  it  with  a  passing  pain. 

But  not  a  ray  of  hope  or  consolation  refreshed  the  dreary 
wastes  of  the  heart  of  Olympia  de  Soissons.  She  had  with- 
drawn herself  from  the  embrace  of  her  son,  and  leaned  far 
back  into  the  corner  of  the  carriage.  But  for  the  glare  of  her 
large,  black  eyes,  as  they  reflected  the  light  of  the  lamps  on 
either  side,  she  might  have  been  asleep,  so  motionless  she  lay  ; 
but,  whenever  Eugene  turned  a  timid  glance  upon  her  rigid 
features,  he  saw  that  she  seemed  ever  and  ever  to  be  looking 
away  from  him,  and  far  out  upon  the  black  and  shapeless 
masses  of  the  woods  through  which  they  journeyed  all  that 
night. 

He  had  tried  to  divert  her  by  conversation ;  but  to  his  re- 
marks she  had  made  such  curt  and  random  replies,  that  he 
desisted,and  left  her  to  the  bleak  solitude  of  her  own  reveries. 

And  thus  they  passed  the  night.  With  fresh  relays  of 
eight  spirited  horses,  they  travelled  so  swiftly,  that  when 
morning  dawned,  the  lofty  towers  of  the  Cathedral  of  Rheims 
were  seen  looming  through  the  mist,  and  the  coachman  drew 
up  before  the  gates. 

But  although  a  courier  had  been  sent  in  advance  to  order 
it,  no  relay  was  there.  The  coachman  turned  to  Eugene  for 
instructions. 

"  This  is  most  unfortunate,"  replied  he,  '*  for  it  compels  us 
to  enter  the  city  and  change  horses  at  the  royal  ix)st-house. 
While  arrangements  are  being  made  there,  will  it  please  my 
dear  mother  to  leave  her  carriage  and  partake  of  some  refresh- 
ment?" 

The  countess  replied  with  a  silent  bend  of  the  head,  and 


62  PRINCE   EUGENE   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

Eugene  sent  forward  a  courier,  with  orders  to  have  breakfast 
prepared.  The  carriage  passed  the  old  Roman  gate,  and  en- 
tered the  city,  made  famous  by  the  coronation  of  so  many 
kings  of  France.  The  rattle  of  the  wheels  over  the  rough 
stone  pavement  made  the  countess  start  with  apprehension  of 
she  knew  not  what,  and  she  withdrew  cautiously  from  sight. 

"  It  is  well  that  the  roll  of  this  clamorous  carriage  cannot 
awaken  our  foes,"  said  she,  as  they  stopped  before  the  post- 
house. 

Her  rejoicings  were  premature  ;  for  the  master  of  the  post- 
horses  came  leisurely  forward,  his  face  expressing  a  mixture 
of  rude  curiosity  with  careless  contempt. 

"  You  want  post-horses  ?  "  asked  he,  with  a  familiar  nod. 

Eugene's  large  eyes  flashed  fire.  "  It  would  appear,"  said 
he,  "  that  you  do  not  know  to  whom  you  have  the  honor  of 
speaking,  or  else  you  would  remove  your  hat." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  know  who  you  are,"  answered  he,  insolently. 
"  That  is  the  Countess  de  Soissons,  and  you  are  the  little  abbe, 
her  son.  But  I  keep  on  my  hat,  for  it  is  cool  this  morning, 
and  it  suits  me  not  to  remove  it." 

"  It  suits  you,  then,  to  be  a  boor,  a  barefaced — " 

"  Peace,  Eugene  ! "  interrupted  Olympia,  in  Italian  ;  "  peace, 
or  you  will  cause  me  some  detention  that  may  imperil  my  life. 
See  ;  in  spite  of  the  undue  hour,  how  many  men  are  around 
our  carriage.  They  are  not  here  by  accident.  Their  presence 
only  proves  that  Louvois'  couriers  have  anticipated  us  ;  and  if 
ever  we  hope  to  pass  the  frontiers  of  France,  we  must  be  dis- 
creet. " 

"  And  I  may  not,  therefore,  chastise  this  varlet !  I  must  sit 
tamely  by  while  he  insults  my  mother  ! " 

"He  is  but  a  tool,  Eugene.  Spare  the  instrument,  and 
strike  the  hand  that  directs  it  against  me. " 

"  By  the  Eternal  God,  I  will  smite  that  hand  !  "  said  Eugene, 
while  the  master  of  the  post-horses  stood  staring  at  Olympia 
with  an  expression  of  familiarity  that  would  have  cost  him  his 
life,  had  she  been  free  to  take  it.  But  sweet  as  the  honey  of 
Hybla,  were  the  words  she  spoke. 

"  Good  sir,  would  you  be  so  obliging  as  to  furnish  us  with 
eight  horses  ? "  said  she,  almost  imploringly. 


THE  FLIGHT.  68 

**  Eight  horses !  for  that  light  vehicle  ?  It  looks  much  as  if 
you  were  trying  to  make  your  escape,  and  were  sore  pressed  to 
move  on." 

'•  I  am,  indeed,  sorely  pressed,"  said  she,  in  tones  of  distress; 
*'  hasten,  I  implore  of  you,  hasten ! " 

"  You  cannot  have  them  before  half  an  hour,"  said  he,  turn* 
ing  on  his  heel,  and  re-entering  the  house. 

The  countess  now  called  to  one  of  her  footmen  :  "  Go,  see 
if  we  can  have  a  room  and  some  breakfast." 

The  man  obeyed,  but  returned  almost  immediately,  with  a 
most  embarrassed  expression. 

"  They  have  no  vacant  room,  and  say  that  your  highness 
need  not  trouble  yourself  to  leave  the  carriage,  in  search  of 
lodgings,  were  it  even  for  five  minutes." 

"Then  go  and  bring  us  each  a  cup  of  chocolate,"  replied 
the  countess,  with  a  sigh. 

The  footman  renewed  his  petition,  and  this  time  returned, 
accompanied  by  a  woman,  who,  in  angry  haste,  approached 
the  unhappy  fugitives  : 

"  You  are  the  Countess  de  Soissons  ? "  asked  she,  with  a 
bold  stare. 

"  Yes,  madame,  I  am ;  and  I  hope  you  will  do  me  the  favor 
to  serve  us  a  cup  of  chocolate." 

"  You  do— do  you  ?  Well,  I  have  come  out  here  to  tell 
you  that  I  shall  do  no  such  thing.  How  do  I  know  that  your 
breath  may  not  poison  my  cup  and—" 

"  Woman ! "  cried  Eugene,  springing  up  from  his  seat. 

His  mother  put  him  firmly  back.  *'I  command  you  to 
keep  silence,"  said  she,  imperiously.  Then,  resuming  her  col- 
loquy with  the  woman  who  stood  by,  with  arms  akimbo  :  ''  I 
will  tell  you  how  you  can  oblige  me  without  any  risk  to  your- 
self." 

"How,  pray?" 

"Sell  me,  not  only  the  chocolate,  but  the  cups  that  contain 
it    I  will  give  you  a  louis  d'or  for  each  one." 

The  woman's  eyes  glistened  with  greed  of  gold.  "  Two  louia 
d'ors  for  two  cups  of  chocolate  !  "  said  she  to  herself,  "  that  is 
a  brave  trade  for  me.  You  shall  have  them,"  added  she  aloud, 
"  I  will  fetch  them  in  a  moment." 


64  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES 

And  off  she  pattered  with  her  slipshod  shoes  into  the  house. 
The  countess  then  addressed  her  son,  who,  leaning  back  in  a 
corner  of  the  carriage,  sat  with  his  head  buried  in  his  hands. 

"  Eugene,"  said  she,  emphatically,  "  if  you  are  to  accompany 
me  any  farther,  it  must  be  as  a  peace-loving  abbe  not  as  an 
irascible  soldier.  If  you  incense  these  people  against  us,  youi 
indiscreet  zeal  will  cause  me  to  be  captured.  I  have  no  long- 
ing for  death  ;  I  desire  to  live  until  my  son,  the  mighty  car- 
dinal, has  trampled  under  foot  the  least  as  well  as  the  greatest 
of  my  enemies." 

"  Oh,  mother,  I  have  not  only  your  injuries  to  avenge,  but 
mine  !  I  have  the  burning  shame  of  yesterday  to  wipe  out- 
although  the  wound  of  my  humiliation  can  never  be  healed." 

"  Time — Nature's  sweet  balm— heals  every  wound,  and  in- 
our  days  of  adversity  let  this  be  our  consolation.  To  the  sharp 
lash  of  Destiny  the  wise  man  will  bow  in  silence  ;  but  if  the 
blow  be  from  the  hand  of  man,  it  is  from  the  crucible  of  the 
suffering  it  imposes  that  must  come  the  strength  wherewith 
we  retaliate  ;  from  the  depths  of  our  wounded  hearts  that 
must  spring  the  geysers  of  our  seething  revenge.  It  would 
gratify  me  to  have  you  the  companion  of  my  flight,  but,  if  in 
the  impotence  of  your  wrath  you  seek  to  defend  me,  it  will  be 
better  for  us  to  part. — Ah,  here  comes  the  chocolate  !  I  con- 
fess that  I  rejoice  to  scent  its  fragrant  aroma.  Let  us  drink, 
and  afterward  you  will  decide  whether  you  subscribe  to  my 
exactions,  or  return  to  Paris." 

The  cups  were  cracked,  without  handles,  and  of  coarse  pot- 
tery— the  thrifty  housewife  having  taken  care  to  select  the 
worst  of  her  wares  to  barter  away.  The  countess  smilingly 
accepted  hers,  and,  as  Eugene  was  putting  his  impatiently 
away,  she  took  it  herself  from  the  servant's  hands. 

"  Drink,"  said  she,  "  and  hearken  to  a  saying  of  our  uncle, 
Cardinal  Mazarin:  'When  a  man  is  troubled  in  spirit,  he 
must  strengthen  himself  in  body.  The  world  is  a  great  cam- 
paign against  contrarieties  with  which  we  must  daily  antici- 
pate a  skirmish.  And  above  all,  on  the  eve  of  a  great  battle,, 
the  soul,  which  is  the  chief,  must  see  to  it  that  his  soldier, 
which  is  the  body,  is  in  a  condition  to  do  him  service.'  These 
were  the  words  of  a  wise  man,  and  they  are  worthy  of  being 


THE  FLIGHT.  65 

remembered.  Drink  your  chocolate,  my  son,  for  you  well 
know  that  we  are  about  to  go  into  action." 

He  took  the  cup  from  his  mother's  hand,  and,  without  an- 
other word,  emptied  it  of  its  contents.  The  woman,  mean- 
while, had  been  watching  her  cups,  lamenting  their  approach- 
ing destruction,  which,  spite  of  the  tremendous  price  at  which 
they  had  been  purchased,  she  looked  upon  as  a  sacrifice  greatly 
to  be  deplored.  Seeing  that  the  catastrophe  was  approaching, 
she  stepped  forward  to  receive  her  pay.  In  her  hand  she  held 
a  large  pan  of  water,  which  she  raised  to  a  level  with  the  por- 
tiere of  the  carriage. 

"  Now,  madame,"  said  she,  "  you  have  had  your  chocolate, 
give  me  my  louis  d'ors." 

From  her  jewelled  purse  Olympia  drew  out  two  gold-pieces, 
which  she  offered  to  the  woman.  But,  instead  of  receiving 
them,  she  cried  out  in  a  shrill  voice : 

"Drop  them  in  the  water.  After  a  few  hours  I  may 
venture  to  touch  the  gold  that  has  passed  through  your 
hands!" 

The  crowd,  whom  curiosity  had  drawn  around  the  carriage, 
now  burst  out  into  a  shout  of  applause. 

"  Right,  right,  Dame  Margot !  You  are  a  prudent  woman  t 
Nobody  knows  what  might  come  of  handling  her  louia 
d'ors." 

Olympia  smiled.  "  Yes."  said  she,  "  you  are  a  wise  woman, 
and,  as  a  token  of  my  admiration  for  your  prudence,  here  are 
three  louis  d'ors  instead  of  the  two  I  had  promised." 

So  saying,  she  dropped  three  gold-pieces  in  the  basin.  The 
woman  blushed,  and  looked  ashamed.  The  crowd  were  aston- 
ished, and  here  and  there  were  heard  a  few  murmured  words 
of  sympathy.  "  That  was  very  kind,  was  it  not  ?  After  all, 
she  may  not  be  as  bad  as  they  say.  It  may  all  be  a  lie  about 
her  poisoning  her  children  1 " 

Olympia  heard  it,  and  a  proud  smile  flitted  over  her  beau- 
tiful face.  The  woman  still  lingered  at  the  carriageKloor. 
"  And  the  cups  ? "  asked  she,  wistfully.  "  I  suppose  you  will 
break  them,  will  you  not  ? " 

"  No,"  replied  the  countess,  speaking  so  that  she  might  be 
heard  by  the  people.    "  No,  my  good  woman,  I  will  not  break 


66  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

them  :  they  shall  lie  in  the  hasin,  so  that,  like  the  gold,  they 
may  be  purified  until  you  find  them  worthy  of  being  used 


again 


!" 


And  again  her  jewelled  hand  was  extended,  and  from  her 
slender  fingers  the  cups  were  carefully  dropped  into  the  basin. 

"  Your  highness,"  exclaimed  the  woman,  abashed,  "  I  thank 
you  a  thousand  times  for  your  generosity,  and  I  hope  you  will 
forgive  my  rudeness.  I  would  not  have  been  so  forgetful  of 
the  respect  I  owe  to  a  lady  of  your  rank,  if  I  had  not  been  put 
up  to  it  by  other  people.  From  my  heart  I  beg  your  pardon, 
madame." 

' '  You  are  sincerely  forgiven,"  replied  Olympia,  gently.  "  1 
am  accustomed  to  contumely,  and  when  unjustly  persecuted 
I  follow  the  example  of  my  Saviour^I  forgive  those  that  hate 
and  revile  me." 

"  Did  you  hear  that  ? "  whispered  the  multitude  one  to  an- 
other. "  And  do  you  mark  what  a  beautiful  countenance  she 
has  ?  Instead  of  being  a  murderess,  she  may  be  a  pious  saint. 
Who  knows  ? " 

"No,"  cried  the  vender  of  chocolate,  bravely  diving  her 
hand  into  the  basin  and  withdrawing  her  louis  d'ors,  "  no,  she 
is  no  murderess,  she  is  a  benevolent,  Christian  lady." 

"  She  is  a  benevolent  Christian  lady,"  shouted  the  people, 
and  in  less  than  five  minutes  the  countess  was  as  popular  as  a 
prince  w^ho  has  just  ascended  the  throne. 

A  third  time  the  magic  purse  was  drawn  forth,  and  two 
more  louis  d'ors  glittered  in  the  hand  of  Dame  Margot ! 

"  May  I  ask  of  you  the  favor  to  give  this  to  those  good  peo- 
ple, that  they  may  drink  my  health  ? "  said  Olympia. 

"You  are  an  angel,"  cried  Margot,  while  her  eyes  grew 
moist  with  sympathizing  tears. 

"  Yes,  an  angel ! "  echoed  the  crowd.  "  So  beautiful !  So 
good !    So  bountiful ! " 

They  were  still  in  the  height  of  their  enthusiasm  when  the 
half  hour  had  expired,  and  the  post-horses  were  brought  out 
and  harnessed.  The  postilion  sounded  his  horn,  and  the  coach- 
man cracked  his  whip. 

"  Long  live  ithe  noble  Countess  de  Soissons ! "  cried  Dame 
Margot,  and  "  Long  live  her  highness! "  echoed  the  converts, 


THE  FLIGHT.  67 

while  the  carriage  thundered  through  the  streets,  and  the 
countess  thi*ew  herself  back  and  laughed. 

"  Miserable  rabble  I  "  said  she,  *'  whose  love  and  hate  are 
bought  with  gold,  and  whom  philanthropists  regard  as  the  ex- 
ponents of  the  Divine  will !  '  Vox  populi  vox  Dei^  forsooth ! " 
— Then,  turning  to  Eugene,  who,  during  the  whole  perform- 
ance, had  remained  sullenly  silent,  she  continued:  "  Have  you 
decided  whether  to  leave  or  accompany  me  ?  If  the  latter,  it 
must  be  in  the  character  of  a  diplomatist,  whose  weapons  are 
sweet  words  and  shining  gold." 

"I  go  on  with  you,  mother,  as  your  loving  and  obedient 
son,"  said  Eugene,  kissing  her  hand — even  the  one  which  still 
clasped  the  wonder-working  purse.  "  I  have  no  right  to  de- 
spise this  tiny  necromancer,  for,  by  its  beneficent  power,  you 
have  been  rescued  from  dangers  which  I,  a  man,  and  not  a 
coward,  was  impotent  to  avert.  I  submit,  dear  mother,  to 
your  dictates — no  longer  your  champion,  look  upon  me  hence- 
forth as  your  subject." 

The  voice  was  very  mournful  in  which  Eugene  made  this 
profession  of  vassalage,  and  at  its  conclusion  his  eyes  were 
veiled  by  tears  of  burning  humiliation.  His  mother  aflPected 
not  to  perceive  his  emotion,  as  she  replied  in  her  blandest 
tones: 

**  I  thank  you,  my  son.  Your  decision  is  a  most  filial  and 
meritorious  one.  The  two  days  that  have  just  passed  over 
your  head  have  proved  to  me  that,  whatever  may  be  your 
career,  you  are  destined  to  render  it  illustrious^either  by  states- 
manship or  prowess.  Whether  as  an  ecclesiastic,  a  politi- 
cian, or  a  soldier,  you  will  certainly  attain  distinction." 

"  Mother,  as  a  soldier,  I  may  attain  distinction ;  as  a  church- 
man, never.  For  the  present  I  accept  my  fate;  but  blessed 
will  be  the  day  on  which  I  go  into  the  world  free  to  feel  the 
power  of  my  manhood,  and  to  shape  my  fortunes  with  my 
own  hand.  Let  women  rise  to  dignity  through  royal  favor 
and  family  influence;  man^s  only  ally  should  be  his  own 
strong  arm.  Far  nobler  to  me  is  the  lieutenant  who  wins  his 
epaulets  upon  the  battle-field,  than  the  prince  who  is  bom  to 
the  command  of  an  army." 

"  Have  a  care  how  you  speak  such  high-treason  at  the  court 


68  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

of  Louis  XIV.,"  replied  his  mother.  "  It  would  be  repeated  to 
his  majesty,  and  never  would  be  forgiven." 

"  I  hope  to  do  many  things  in  my  life  that  will  be  repeated 
to  his  majesty  of  France — perchance  some  of  which  may  never 
obtain  his  forgiveness,"  replied  Eugene,  quietly.  "  But  let  us 
speak  of  the  present,  and  of  you,  beloved  mother." 

Olympia  threw  herself  back  against  the  soft  upholstery  that 
lined  the  back  of  the  carriage.  "  Rather  let  us  speak  of  noth- 
ing, my  child.  Neither  of  us  had  any  rest  last  night  :  I  would 
gladly  sleep  awhile." 

She  closed  her  eyes,  and  finally  Nature  asserted  her  long- 
frustrated  claims.  In  a  few  moments,  the  humiliations,  the 
feai's,  and  the  sufferings  of  the  unhappy  Olympia,  were 
drowned  in  the  drowsy  waters  of  profound  sleep. 

She  was  not  long  permitted  to  remain  in  oblivion  of  her 
woes.  Her  repose  was  broken  by  the  hoots  and  hisses  of  an- 
other vulgar  crowd,  that  swarmed  like  hornets  about  the  car- 
riage-windows. They  had  arrived  at  another  station,  where,  in 
place  of  finding  post-horses,  they  were  met  by  another  mob  as 
vituperative  as  the  one  they  had  encountered  before. 

Eugene  thrust  open  the  portiere,  and,  leaping  into  the  very 
midst  of  the  rioters,  he  drew  out  his  pistols.  "  The  first  one  of 
you,"  cried  he,  "  that  proffers  another  injurious  word,  I  will 
shoot  as  I  would  a  vicious  dog  !  " 

''Hear  that  sickly  manikin  !  He  is  trying  to  browbeat 
us  ! "  cried  some  one  in  the  crowd. 

"  Yes,  yes,  trying  to  browbeat  us  ! "  echoed  the  chorus. 

"  Yes — by  the  eternal  heavens  above  us  ! "  exclaimed  the 
prince,  "  The  first  that  moves  a  foot  toward  us,  dies  ! " 

His  eyes  flashed  so  boldly,  and  his  attitude  was  so  com- 
manding, that  the  people,  ever  cowed  by  true  courage,  fal- 
tered and  fell  back. 

Just  then  Olympia  opened  the  door  on  her  own  side  of  the 
chariot,  and,  without  the  slightest  manifestation  of  fear  or  an- 
ger, stepped  to  the  ground,  and,  with  one  of  her  bewitching 
smiles,  made  her  way  to  the  very  center  of  her  foes.  Her 
voice  was  soft  and  low,  but,  to  a  practised  ear,  it  would  have 
seemed  like  that  of  a  lioness,  who,  forced  to  temporize,  was 
longing  to  devour. 


THE  FLIGHT.  69 

**Good  people,"  said  the  leonine  siren,  "pardon  the  iras- 
cihility  of  this  young  man.  He  is  my  son,  and,  when  he  heard 
his  mother's  name  aspersed,  his  anger  got  the  better  of  his  dis- 
cretion. Is  it  not  true,"  continued  she,  turning  to  a  woman 
who  had  been  most  vociferous  in  her  maledictions,  "  is  it  not 
true,  dear  friend,  that  a  son  is  excusable  who  grows  indignant 
when  he  hears  his  mother  accused  of  deeds  the  very  thought 
of  which  would  fill  her  with  horror  ?  Perhaps  you,  too,  have 
a  son  that  loves  you,  and  who,  knowing  you  to  be  a  good  and 
pious  woman,  would  never  suffer  any  man  to  attack  your 
good  name." 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  woman,  entirely  propitiated,  "  yes,  ma- 
dame,  I  have  a  son  who  certainly  would  defend  my  good  name 
against  any  man  that  attacked  it." 

"Then  you  will  make  allowances  for  mine,  and  speak 
a  kind  word  for  him  to  your  friends  here,  for  we  mothers 
understand  one  another,  do  we  not  ?  And  any  one  of  us  is 
ready  to  shelter  the  good  son  of  some  other  woman  ?  Are  we 
not  ?^" 

"  That  we  are,"  returned  the  woman,  enthusiastically.  '*  I 
will  protect  your  son,  never  fear."  And,  with  her  arms  up- 
raised, she  dashed  through  the  crowd,  and  addressed  those  who 
were  nearest  to  Eugene,  and  who,  partially  over  their  panic, 
were  just  about  to  remember  that  they  were  many  against  their 
one  opponent. 

"  Let  him  alone  ! "  cried  she.  "  He  is  her  son  !  You  see 
that  we  have  been  deceived  by  those  who  told  us  that  she  had 
poisoned  her  childi^en.  How  should  this  one  love  her,  if  she 
were  so  wicked  ? " 

"Dear  friends,"  cried  Olympia,  so  as  to  be  heai'd  by  all 
around,  *'you  have  been  shamefully  imposed  upon,  if  you 
were  told  that  I  poisoned  my  dear  children.  I  have  given  birth 
Xo  seven,  who  are  all  alive  to  testify  that  their  poor  mother  is 
innocent." 

"All  seven  alive  I  Seven  children,  and  not  one  dead!" 
exclaimed  the  "dear  friend"  whom  Olympia  had  specially  ad- 
dressed. "  Just  think  of  that  I  Why,  of  course  she  is  inno- 
cent." 

And  here  and  there  the  shrill  voices  of  the  women  were 


70  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

heard  repeating  the  words,  "  She  is  innocent,  of  course  she  is 
innocent ! " 

"  You  perceive,  then,"  continued  the  countess,  pursuing  her 
advantage,  "  that  I  have  powerful  enemies,  since  they  precede 
me  on  my  journey  with  slanderous  falsehoods,  and  try  to  turn 
the  honest  hearts  of  the  villagers  of  France  against  me  and 
my  son.  I  see  that  they  have  been  here,  and  have  bribed  you 
to  insult  me." 

"  That  is  true,"  cried  a  chorus  of  rough  voices.  "  We  were 
paid  to  insult  you  and  to  refuse  you  post-horses." 

"  Well,  then,"  returned  Olympia,  with  one  of  her  most  en- 
chanting smiles,  "  I,  too,  will  give  you  money,  but  it  shall  not 
be  to  bribe  you  to  resent  my  injuries.  It  will  be  to  dispose  of 
as  your  kind  hearts  deem  best." 

She  threw  out  a  handful  of  silver,  for  which  some  began  to 
stoop  and  scramble,  while  others,  emboldened  by  the  sight  of 
such  a  largesse,  crowded  around,  stretching  out  their  hands 
for  a  "souvenir." 

"  Whoever,  at  the  expiration  of  fifteen  minutes,  furnishes 
me  eight  fresh  horses,  shall  receive  eight  louis  d'ors  as  a  token 
of  my  gratitude,"  said  the  sagacious  Olympia. 

No  sooner  were  the  words  spoken,  than  every  man  there 
flew  to  earn  the  token.  In  less  than  a  minute  the  ground  was 
cleared,  and  naught  was  to  be  seen  but  a  few  women  and 
children,  still  bent  upon  searching  for  the  silver. 

The  countess  returned  to  her  carriage,  where  she  found  Eu- 
gene, looking  embarrassed  and  ashamed.  He  immediately 
apologized  for  his  involuntary  disregard  of  her  injunctions. 

"Dear  mother,  forgive  me  ;  in  this  last  dilemma  I  have 
conducted  myself  like  a  madman,  while  you  have  shown  that 
you  possess  true  heroism.  I  see  how  very  much  wiser  you  are 
than  I  ;  and  I  solemnly  promise  to  attempt  no  more  violence, 
where  personal  violence  is  not  offered  to  us.  But  to  say  that 
I  could  exchange  my  weapons  for  yours,  I  cannot.  I  never 
shall  learn  to  dissimulate  and  flatter." 

His  mother  slightly  raised  her  shoulders.  "  You  will  learn 
it  in  time,  when  you  will  have  learned  to  despise  your  fel- 
lows as  I  do. — But  seel  Heaven  be  praised,  here  come  th© 
horses." 


THE  PARTING.  7^ 

In  a  few  moments,  eight  brown  hands  were  outstretched  to 
receive  the  gold,  and,  amid  the  huzzas  of  the  multitude,  the 
CJountess  de  Soissons  pursued  her  journey. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE    PARTINa. 

Eugene  looked  gloomily  out  of  the  carriage-window,  and 
heard  a  succession  of  deep  sighs. 

"  Shall  I  tell  you  why  you  are  so  sad  ? "  said  Olympia  to 
ber  son. 

"  I  am  sad  because  I  feel  my  miserable  impotence,"  replied 
he,  moodily.  "  I  am  sad  because  I  must  at  last  acknowledge 
that  Mazarin  was  right  when  he  said  that  gold  was  the  only 
divinity  devoutly  worshipped  on  earth." 

"Speak  not  slightingly  of  gold,"  cried  Olympia,  laughing; 
"  it  has  probably  saved  my  life  to-day.  Unluckily  we  are  far 
from  the  end  of  our  journey,  and  I  may  not  have  enough  of 
this  precious  gold  wherewith  to  purchase  forbearance  as 
we  go." 

"  We  are  not  far  from  the  frontier,  and  once  in  Flanders, 
you  are  safe." 

"  Not  so.  There  are  no  bounds  to  the  realms  of  this  yellow 
divinity.  Its  worshippers  are  everywhere,  and  Louvois  will 
seek  them  in  France  and  out  of  it.  But  I  think  I  have  a  device 
whereby  we  may  outwit  our  mighty  oppressor,  and  avoid  fur- 
ther contumely." 

"What  is  it,  mother?" 

**  I  will  take  another  and  a  less  public  road.  You  shall  go 
with  me  as  far  as  the  boundaries.  We  can  pass  the  night  at 
Rocroy,  and  part  on  the  morrow :  you  to  retrace  your  steps,  I 
to  continue  my  flight  in  a  plain  carriage,  with  two  horses  and 
no  attendants." 

"  I  have  promised  to  submit,  and  will  obey  you  implicitly," 
returned  Eugene,  respectfully.    "  Since  you  command  me  to 
go,  we  will  part  at  Rocroy." 
6 


<^2  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

"  All !  "  sighed  the  countess,  "  I  would  we  were  there,  for 
indeed  I  am  exhausted,  and  yearn  for  rest." 

Many  hours,  however,  went  by,  before  they  reached  Eocroy, 
and,  wherever  their  need  compelled  them  to  stop,  they  met  with 
the  same  insults ;  the  same  efforts  were  to  be  gone  through,  to 
propitiate  the  rabble ;  and  Eugene  was  forced  to  endure  it  all, 
while  his  martyred  heart  was  vn'ung  with  anguish  that  no 
words  are  adequate  to  picture. 

At  last,  to  the  relief  of  the  prince,  and  the  great  joy  of  his 
mother,  who  was  almost  fainting  with  fatigue,  the  fortress  was 
reached,  the  foaming  horses  were  drawn  up,  and  the  officer  in 
command  was  seen  coming  through  a  postern,  followed  by  six 
of  his  men. 

It  was  the  custom  in  France  to  search  every  vehicle  that 
left  the  frontier ;  and,  in  compliance  with  this  custom,  the  offi- 
cer advanced  promptly  to  meet  the  travellers.  The  countess 
had  so  often  submitted  to  this  formality,  that  when  her  name 
and  destination  were  asked,  she  avowed  them  both  without  the 
least  hesitation. 

"  I  hope,"  added  she,  "  that  the  declaration  of  my  name  and 
rank  will  exempt  me  from  the  detention  usual  in  these  cases, 
for  I  am  in  great  haste,  and  you  will  oblige  me  by  ordering 
the  gates  to  be  opened  at  once." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  disoblige  your  highness,"  replied  the  officer, 
with  a  supercilious  smile,  "  but  that  very  declaration  compels 
me  to  refuse  you  egress  through  the  gates  of  Eocroy. " 

"What  in  Heaven's  name  do  you  mean,  sir?"  exclaimed 
Olympia,  alarmed. 

"I  mean  that  Monsieur  Louvois's  orders  are  express  that 
the  Countess  de  Soissons  shall  not  be  suffered  to  pass  the  for- 
tress, and  his  orders  here  are  paramount." 

With  these  words  the  officer  turned  his  back,  made  a  sign 
to  his  men,  and  in  less  than  a  minute  the  party  had  disap- 
peared, and  the  inexorable  gates  had  closed. 

The  countess  sighed  wearily.  "Let  us  go  farther,"  said 
she-  "  In  the  next  village  we  will  at  least  find  lodgings,  and 
rest  for  the  night." 

The  horses'  heads  were  turned,  and  the  tired  animals  urged 
on,  until  a  neighboring  town  had  been  reached,  whose  stately 


THE  PARTING.  78 

inn,  with  its  brightly-illuminated  entrance,  gave  promise  of 
xsomfortable  entertainment  for  man  and  beast. 

Three  well-dressed  individuals  stood  in  the  lofty  door- way, 
and  as  the  carriage  drove  up  they  came  forward  to  meet  it. 
Eugene,  shielding  his  mother  from  sight,  asked  if  they  could 
alight  to  sup  and  lodge  there  for  the  night. 

"  That  depeuds  upon  circumstances,"  replied  one  of  them. 
•'  You  must  first  have  the  goodness  to  give  us  your  name." 

"  My  name  is  nothing  to  the  purpose,"  cried  Eugene,  im- 
patiently. "  I  ask  merely  whether  strangers  can  be  accommo- 
dated with  supper  and  beds  in  this  house." 

"  The  name  is  every  thing,  sir,  and,  before  I  answer  youp 
inquiry,  I  must  know  it — unless,  indeed,  you  are  anxious  to 
-conceal  it." 

"  A  Prince  de  Carignan  has  never  yet  had  reason  to  conceal 
his  name,"  said  Eugene,  haughtily. 

"  Ah !  your  highness,  then,  is  the  Prince  de  Carignan !  And 
may  this  lady  in  the  comer  there  be  your  mother,  the  Countess 
de  Soissons  ? " 

"Yes— the  Countess  de  Soissons;  and  now  that  you  are 
made  acquainted  with  our  names — " 

"  I  regret  that  I  cannot  receive  you,"  interrupted  the  host. 
*'  Were  you  alone,  my  house  and  every  thing  within  my  doors 
would  be  at  the  service  of  the  Prince  de  Carignan,  but  for  his 
mother  we  have  no  accommodation.  We  are  afraid  of  noble 
ladies  that  use  poison." 

The  words  were  scarcely  out  of  his  mouth,  before  he  sprang 
-up  the  steps,  and  closed  the  doors  of  the  inn  in  their  faces. 

"  Ah ! "  muttered  Olympia,  between  her  teeth,  "  such  cruelty 
as  this  is  enough  to  drive  any  one  to  the  use  of  poison !  And 
if  I  live  I  will  be  revenged  on  yonder  churl  that  has  sent  me 
out  into  the  darkness,  denying  me  food  and  rest ! " 

'*  Whither  will  your  highness  go  now? "  asked  the  footman ; 
and,  by  the  tone  of  the  inquiry,  Olympia  felt  that  her  menials 
were  rapidly  losing  all  respect  for  a  "  highness  "  that  could  no 
longer  command  entrance  into  a  public  inn. 

"  Take  a  by-way  to  the  next  village,  and  stop  at  the  first 
peasant^s  hut  on  the  road." 

The  coachman  was  growing  surly,  and  the  poor,  worn-out 


74  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

horses  were  so  stiff  that  they  could  barely  travel  any  long-er. 
The  village,  however,  was  only  a  few  miles  off,  so  that  they 
were  not  more  than  an  hour  in  reaching  a  miserable  hovel,  at 
the  door  of  which  was  a  man  in  the  superlative  degree  of  as- 
tonishment. He,  at  least,  had  never  heard  of  Louvois  and 
Louvois's  orders,  so  that,  for  the  promise  of  a  gold-piece,  h& 
was  easily  induced  to  receive  the  desponding  party.  Bat  his 
only  bed  was  of  straw,  and  he  feared  their  excellencies  would 
not  be  satisfied  with  his  fare. 

"  My  friend,"  said  Olympia,  "  to  an  exhausted  traveller  a 
litter  of  straw  is  as  welcome  as  a  bed  of  down ;  "  and,  with  a 
sigh  of  relief,  she  took  the  arm  of  her  son,  and  entered  the  hut. 

"  Are  you  married  ? "  asked  she,  taking  her  seat  on  a  wooden 
stool,  near  the  chimney. 

"  Yes ;  and  here  is  my  wife,"  said  he,  as  a  young  woman, 
blushing  and  courtesy ing,  came  forward  to  welcome  her  dis- 
tinguished visitors. 

"  Have  you  a  wagon  and  horses  ? "  continued  the  countess. 

"  A  wagon,  your  excellency,  but  no  horses :  we  have  two 
sturdy  oxen,  instead." 

"  Would  you  like  to  earn  enough  money  to-night  to  buy 
yourself  a  handsome  team  ? " 

"  Yes,  indeed,  we  )70uld,"  cried  husband  and  wife  simul- 
taneously. 

"  Then,"  said  Olympia  to  the  latter,  "  sell  me  your  Sunday- 
gown,  let  me  have  something  to  eat,  and  throw  down  some 
clean  straw  in  the  corner,  where  I  may  sleep  for  a  few  hours. 
When  I  awake,"  added  she  to  the  man,  "  harness  your  oxen, 
and  take  me  in  your  wagon  beyond  the  frontier,  to  Flanders. 
If  you  will  do  this,  you  shall  have  fifty  louis  d'ors  for  your 
trouble." 

The  peasant  grinned  responsive.  "  That  will  I,"  cried  he, 
slapping  his  thigh ;  "  and,  if  you  say  so,  I'll  take  you  as  far  as 
Chimay,  which  is  a  good  way  beyond  the  frontier." 

"  Right,"  said  the  countess,  joyfully.  "  To  Chimay  we  go. 
Now,  my  good  girl,  bring  me  your  best  holiday-suit." 

The  young  woman  ran,  breathless  with  joy,  to  fetch  her  at- 
tire, while  the  man  went  out  to  feed  his  oxen.  Olympia  then 
addressed  herself  to  Eugene: 


THE  PARTING.  75 

**  Now,  my  son,  we  are  alone,  and  I  claim  the  fulfilment  of 
your  promise.  You  have  seen  me  to  a  place  of  safety,  and  you 
must  return  to  Paris.  Listen  now  to  my  commands,  perhaps 
the  last  I  may  ever  give  you." 

*'  CJommand,  dear  mother,  and  I  will  obey.  But  do  not  ask 
me  to  abandon  you  to  the  danger  which  still  threatens  you." 

"  You  exaggerate  my  danger,  Eugene ;  and,  by  remaining 
with  me,  you  increase  it.  You  are  too  impulsive  to  be  a  dis- 
creet companion,  and  I  exact  of  you  to  leave  me.  Disguised 
as  a  i)easant-woman,  and  travelling  in  an  ox-cart,  my  foes  will 
never  discover  me,  and  I  have  every  hope  of  reaching  my  des- 
tination in  safety." 

"  It  is  impossible,"  persisted  Eugene,  his  eyes  filling  with 
tears. 

"  My  child,  must  I  then  force  you  to  do  my  bidding  ? " 

"  No  force  can  compel  me  to  do  what  I  know  to  be  craven 
and  dishonorable,"  cried  the  prince.  "  Mother,  I  must  not — 
cannot  obey." 

"  For  one  short  moment,  the  eyes  of  the  countess  flashed 
fire,  but  as  suddenly  they  softened,  and  she  smilingly  extended 
her  hand : 

"  Well — let  us  contend  no  longer,  dear  boy  ;  I  see  that,  for 
once,  I  must  succumb  to  your  strong  will.  Here  comes  the 
woman  with  my  disguise.  Gk>  out  a  while,  and  let  me  change 
my  dress.  Send  the  footman  with  a  little  casket  you  will  find 
in  the  carriage-box.  Here  is  the  key.  And,  Eugene,  do  beg 
the  man  to  send  in  our  supper,  that  it  may  be  ready  for  us 
when  I  shall  have  metamorphosed  myself  into  a  peasant- 
woman." 

About  fifteen  minutes  later,  the  countess  called  her  son, 
**  How  do  you  like  me  ? "  she  said.  "  Am  I  sufficiently  dis- 
guised to  pass  for  that  fellow's  wife  ?  What  a  strange  picture 
we  will  make— you  and  I,  seated  on  a  sack  of  wool,  and  drawn 
by  a  pair  of  creeping  oxen  I  Tis  well  for  you  that  you  are  an 
abb6  ;  were  you  any  thing  else,  you  could  not  venture  to  travel 
by  the  side  of  a  woman  of  low  degree.  Bui— come,  let  us  en- 
joy our  supper  ;  I,  for  one,  am  both  hungry  and  sleepy." 

She  drew  a  stool  up  to  the  table,  which  was  spread  with  a 
clean  cloth,  and  covered  with  nlatters  of  bread,  butter,  and 


76  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

cheese.  Between  two  wooden  bowls  stood  a  large  pitcher  of 
milk.  These  bowls  the  countess  filled  to  the  brim,  and  handed 
one  to  her  son. 

"  Pledge  me  a  bumper,  and  wish  me  a  prosperous  journey," 
said  she,  playfully,  while  she  put  the  cup  to  her  lips,  all  the 
while  narrowly  watching  Eugene. 

He  followed  her  example,  and  drained  his  bowl  to  its  last 
drop.     Then,  striving  to  fall  in  with  her  mood,  he  said: 

"  You  see  how  obedient  I  am,  and  yet  you  know  that  I  am 
not  one  of  those  that  would  be  content  to  live  in  a  land  flow- 
ing with  milk  and  honey." 

"  Thank  you,"  replied  his  mother,  "  for  this  one  act  of  obe- 
dience. I  could  wish  you  were  as  submissive  in  other  things. 
But — what  is  the  matter,  boy  ?    You  are  pale." 

"I  do  not  know,"  stammered  Eugene,  his  tongue  seem- 
ing paralyzed.  "  I  am  sick — I  want — fresh  air  !  Some  air, 
mother  1 " 

He  attempted  to  rise,  but  fell  back  into  his  seat. 

''Mother,"  murmured  he,  while  his  features  were  becom- 
ing distorted  by  pain,  "  have  you  drugged — " 

He  could  articulate  no  longer,  but  gazed  upon  his  mother 
with  fast-glazing  eyes,  until  slowly  his  dull  orbs  closed,  and 
his  head  dropped  heavily  upon  the  table. 

''  Three  minutes,"  said  the  countess,  quietly.  "  Only  three 
minutes,  and  he  sleeps  soundly.  La  Voisin  was  a  wonderful 
creature  !  What  a  high  privilege  it  is  to  reign  over  the  will 
of  another  human  being  with  a  might  as  mysterious  as  it  is 
irresistible  ?  And  greater  yet  the  privilege  of  dispensing  life 
or  death !  Why  did  I  not  exercise  that  power  over  the  proud 
man  that  follows  me  with  such  unrelenting  hate  ?  Ah,  Lou- 
vois,  had  I  been  braver,  I  had  not  endured  your  contumely ! 
Poor,  weak  fool  that  I  was,  not  to  wrestle  with  fate  and  mas- 
ter it  I  But — it  is  useless  to  repine.  Let  me  see.  Eugene  will 
sleep  four  hours,  and,  ere  he  wakes,  I  must  be  beyond  the 
frontiers  of  hostile  France." 

She  left  the  little  room  and  joined  the  peasant's  wife. 

''I  have  prevailed  upon  my  son  to  return  to  Paris,"  said 
she,  in  that  caressing  tone  which  she  had  practised  so  success- 
fully through  the  day.     "  His  health  is  dehcate,  and  the  hard- 


THE  PARTING.  77 

ships  of  our  hurried  journey  have  so  exhausted  him  that  he 
has  fallen  into  a  profound  sleep.  Do  not  disturb  him,  I  en- 
treat of  you,  dear  friend,  and,  when  he  awakes,  give  him  this 
note." 

She  drew  from  her  pocket-book  a  paper,  and,  giving  it  to 
the  woman,  repeated  her  request  that  her  dear  boy  should  not 
be  disturbed. 

"  I  will  take  my  seat  at  the  door,  madame,  and  await  the 
wakening  of  Monsieur  I'Abbe,  to  deliver  your  highness's  note. 
But  will  you  too  not  rest  awhile,  before  you  go  on?  I  think 
you  look  as  if  you  needed  sleep  quite  as  much  as  your  son." 

''  No,  no,  thank  you,  I  must  reach  Flanders  before  sunrise," 
replied  Olympia,  "  and  do  beg  your  husband  to  use  dispatch, 
for  I  am  impatient  to  start.  Will  you  also  be  so  obliging  as 
to  call  my  servants?  I  must  say  a  few  words  to  them  before 
we  part." 

When  the  men  came  in,  their  mistress,  in  spite  of  her  cos- 
tume, wore  a  demeanor  so  lofty,  that  they  were  afraid  to  be- 
tray their  cognition  of  her  disguise,  and  were  awed  back  into 
their  usual  stolid  and  obsequious  deportment. 

"  You  have  witnessed,"  said  the  countess,  "  the  persecutions 
that  have  been  heaped  upon  me  since  yesterday,  and  of  course 
you  are  not  surprised  to  find  that  I  have  adopted  a  disguise  by 
which  I  may  hope  to  escape  further  outrage.  You  have  both 
been  among  the  trustiest  of  my  servants,  and  to  you,  rather 
than  to  my  son,  I  confide  my  parting  instructions.  He  is  now 
asleep,  and  I  will  not  even  waken  him  to  take  leave ;  for  he 
would  wish  to  accompany  me,  and  so  compromise  both  his 
safety  and  mine.  I  therefore  journey  in  secret  and  alone. 
As  for  y6u,  be  in  readiness  to  return  to  Paris  by  daylight, 
and  do  all  that  you  can  for  the  comfort  of  my  son  on  the  way." 

"I  served  his  father,"  replied  the  coachman,  "and  will  do 
my  duty  by  his  son,  your  highness.    Rely  upon  me." 

"  And  I,"  added  the  footman,  "  will  do  my  best  to  deserve 
the  praise  your  highness  has  so  kindly  vouchsafed  to  us,  by 
serving  my  lord  and  prince  as  faithfully  as  I  know  how." 

"Right,  my  good  friends.  You  wUl  always  find  him,  in 
return,  a  gracious  and  generous  master.  You  will  have  no 
difficulty  in  procuring  relays  or  lodging  on  your  return  to 


78  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

Paris  :  oblige  me,  then,  by  travelling  with  all  speed,  for  it  is 
important  that  my  son  arrive  quickly.  And  now  farewell, 
and  accept  this  as  a  remembrance." 

Dropping  several  gold-pieces  into  the  hands  of  each  one, 
their  proud  mistress  inclined  her  head,  and  passed  out  of  the 
hut. 

"  If  your  highness  is  ready,"  said  the  peasant's  wife,  meeting 
her  on  the  threshold,  "  my  husband  is  in  his  wagon  waiting." 

"  In  one  moment,"  replied  Olympia ;  "  I  must  return  to  take 
a  last  kiss  from  my  son." 

She  hastened  back  to  the  little  room,  and,  stepping  lightly, 
advanced  to  the  table,  where  Eugene,  his  head  supported  by 
his  arms,  lay  precisely  in  the  position  wherein  she  had  left 
him.  She  lifted  the  masses  of  his  shaggy,  black  hair,  and 
gazed  wistfully  upon  his  pale  face.  "  And  if  the  stars  are  not 
false,"  whispered  she,  tenderly,  "  this  feeble  body  enshrines  a 
mind  that  shall  win  renown  for  the  house  of  Savoy.  God 
bless  thee,  my  fragile,  but  great-hearted  Eugene !  As  I  gaze 
upon  thy  pallid  brow,  my  whole  being  is  inundated  by  the 
gushing  waters  of  a  love  which  to-night  seems  more  than 
maternal!  So  should  angels  love  the  sons  of  men!  Take 
from  my  lips  the  baptismal  kisses  that  consecrate  thee  to 
glory !    May  God  bless  and  prosper  thee,  my  boy ! " 

She  bent  over  the  sleeping  youth  and  kissed  his  forehead 
o'er  and  o'er.  When  she  raised  her  head,  among  the  raven 
masses  of  Eugene's  hair  there  trembled  here  and  there  a  tear, 
perhaps  the  purest  that  ever  flowed  from  the  turbid  spring  of 
Olympia  de  Soisson's  corrupt  heart. 

One  more  kiss  she  pressed  upon  his  clasped  hands,  and  then 
she  hurried  away.  The  cart  was  before  the  doo^ ;  she  took 
her  seat,  and  slowly  the  creeping  oxen  went  out  into  the  dark- 
ness, bearing  away  with  them  a  secret  which,  to  the  wonder- 
ing peasant-woman,  was  like  Jove's  descent  to  the  daughter  of 
Acrisius.* 

Four  hours  passed  away,  and  the  power  of  the  drugged  cup 

*  Louvois's  hate  pursued  the  Countess  de  Soissons  to  Brussels,  where  the 
beggars  were  bribed  to  insult  her  as  she  passed  them  in  the  streets.  She  waa 
8o  persecuted  by  the  rabble  that,  on  one  occasion,  when  she  was  purchasing 
lace  at  the  convent  of  the  Beguines,  they  assembled  in  such  multitudes  at  tho 


THE  PARTING.  79 

was  at  an  end.  Day  was  breaking,  and,  although  by  the  un- 
certain light  of  the  gray  dawn,  no  object  in  that  poor  place 
was  clearly  defined,  still  everything  was  visible.  Eugene  raised 
his  head  and  looked,  bewildered,  around  the  room.  He  saw  at 
once  that  his  mother  was  not  there,  and  with  a  gesture  of  wild 
alarm  he  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"  Mother,  my  mother ! "  exclaimed  he. 

The  door  opened,  and  the  smiling  peasant  with  a  deep 
courtesy  came  forward  to  wish  his  highness  good-morning. 

'*  Your  mother,  excellency,  has  been  gone  these  four  hours," 
said  she. 

"  Gone !    Gracious  Heaven  I  whither,  and  with  whom  ? " 

"  She  went  to  Flanders,  excellency,  with  my  husband.  Do 
not  feel  unhappy,  sir,  I  beg  of  you ;  my  husband  is  a  good,  pru- 
dent fellow,  and  he  will  take  her  safely  to  Chimay.  Here  is  a 
paper  she  left  for  you,  and  she  bade  me  say  that,  as  soon  as  I 
had  given  you  an  early  breakfast,  you  would  return  with  your 
servants  to  Paris." 

Eugene  clutched  at  the  note,  and  returned  to  the  table  to 
read  it.    Its  contents  were  as  follows: 

"  My  dear  child,  you  would  not  obey  me,  and  yet  I  could 
no  longer  brook  the  danger  of  your  attendance.  Although  I 
am  no  adept  in  the  art  of  poisoning,  yet  I  have  learned  from 
La  Voisin  to  prepare  harmless  anodynes,  one  of  which  I  min- 
gled with  the  cup  of  milk  you  took  from  my  hand  to-night. 
You  sleep,  dear  Eugene,  and  I  must  go  forth  to  meet  my 
fate  alone.  Your  knightly  repugnance  to  what  you  looked 
upon  as  a  desertion  of  your  mother,  has  forced  me  to  the  use 
of  means  which,  though  perfectly  innocent,  I  would  rather  not 
have  employed.  I  knew  no  other  device  by  which  to  escape 
your  too  loving  vigilance. 

entrance,  that  the  nuna,  to  save  her  from  being  torn  to  pieces,  were  com- 
pelled to  permit  her  to  remain  with  them  all  night  Finally  the  governor  of 
Netherlands  was  driven  to  take  her  under  his  own  personal  protection,  by 
which  it  became  unlawful  to  molest  her  further.  After  the  governor  became 
her  champion,  the  prejudices  of  the  people  wore  gradually  away,  until  at  last 
Olympia  held  her  levees  as  she  had  done  in  her  palmy  days  at  the  H/itel  de 
Soissons.— See  Abb«  de  Choisy :  M^moires,  p.  224.  Ken^e :  **  Lea  Nidces  do 
Mazarin,"  p.  21i. 


80  PRINCE  EUGEXE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

*'  Go  back  to  Paris,  my  Eugene,  and  go  with  all  speed,  for 
there  you  can  protect,  there  alone  you  can  defend  me.  There 
are  my  enemies ;  and,  although  I  dedicate  you  to  the  church, 
I  would  not  have  you  put  in  practice  that  precept  of  the  Scrip- 
tures which  enjoins  upon  you  to  forgive  your  traducers,  and 
bless  those  who  despitefuUy  use  you.  No,  no !  From  my  son's 
hand  I  await  the  blow  that  is  to  avenge  my  wounded  honor 
and  my  blasted  existence.  Farewell !  The  spirit  of  Mazarin 
guide  you  to  wisdom  and  success!    Olympia." 

"I  will  avenge  you,  my  own,  my  precious  mother,"  said 
Eugene,  his  teeth  firmly  set  with  bitter  resolve.  "  The  world 
has  thrown  its  gauntlet  to  us,  and,  by  Heaven  I  will  wear  it 
on  my  front !  I  have  swept  the  dark  circle  of  every  imagina- 
ble sorrow,  and  my  soul  is  athirst  for  strife.  'Tis  a  priestly 
ofi&ce  to  vindicate  a  mother's  good  name,  and  I  shall  be  the 
hierophant  of  an  altar  whereon  the  blood  of  her  enemies  shall 
be  sacrificed.  And  now,  dear  maligned  one,"  continued  he, 
kissing  the  words  her  hand  had  traced,  "  farewell !  Thou  wert 
my  first  passionate  love,  and  in  ray  faithful  heart  nothing  ever 
shall  transcend  thee ! " 

Half  an  hour  later  he  was  on  the  road  to  Paris ;  but,  desir- 
ous to  escape  notice,  Eugene  travelled  without  footmen  or  out- 
riders, and  confined  himself  to  a  span  of  horses  for  his  car- 
riage. The  simple  equipage  attracted  no  attention,  and  no 
one  attempted  to  peer  at  its  silent  occupant,  so  that  on  the 
morning  of  the  next  day  he  had  arrived  in  Paris. 

It  was  a  clear,  bright  morning,  and  perchance  this  might 
be  a  reason  why  the  streets  were  unusually  crowded ;  but  as  the 
prince  was  remarking  what  a  multitude  were  astir  to  enjoy  the- 
beauty  of  a  sky  that  was  vaulted  with  pale-blue  and  silver,  he. 
observed  at  the  same  time  that  all  were  going  in  one  direction. 
The  throng  grew  denser  as  the  carriage  advanced,  until  it 
reached  the  Rue  des  Deux  Ecus,  when  it  came  to  a  dead  stop. 
And  after  that  it  advanced  but  a  few  feet  at  a  time,  for  the- 
whole  world  seemed  to  be  going,  with  Eugene,  to  the  Hotel  de 
Soissons. 

At  last  they  reached  the  gates,  and  the  prince  was  about  to 
alight,  when,  directly  in  front  of  the  palace,  and  within  the 


THE  PARTING.  8t 

coiirt,  he  saw  the  sight  which  had  attracted  the  multitude 
thither. 

Before  the  principal  entrance  of  the  palace  were  six  horse- 
men, two  of  whom  in  their  right  hands  held  long  trumpets 
decked  with  flowing  ribbons.  Behind  these,  bestriding  four 
immense  bosses  of  Norman  breed,  were  four  beadles  in  their 
long  black  gowns,  and  broad-brimmed  hats,  looped  up  with 
cockades.  Behind  these  four  were  two  mounted  soldiers, 
dreased  like  those  in  front,  in  the  municipal  colors  of  the  city 
of  Paris,  and  in  place  of  trumpets  they  carried  halberds. 

As  he  saw  this  extraordinary  group,  who  had  apparently 
selected  the  court  of  the  Hotel  Soissons  wherein  to  enact  some 
ridiculous  pageant,  Eugene  could  scarcely  believe  his  dazzled 
eyes.  He  looked  again,  and  saw  the  horsemen  raise  their 
trumpets  to  their  lips,  while  the  air  resounded  with  Si  fanfare 
that  made  the  very  windows  of  the  palace  tremble  in  their 
frames. 

The  multitude,  that  up  to  this  moment  had  been  struggling 
and  contending  together  for  place  and  passage,  suddenly  grew 
breathless  with  expectation,  when  a  second  fanfare  rang  out 
upon  the  air;  and,  when  its  clang  had  died  away,  one  of  the 
black-robed  beadles  cried  out  in  a  loud  voice : 

"  We,  the  appointed  magistrate  of  the  venerable  city  of 
Paris,  hereby  do  summon  the  Countess  Olympia  de  Soissons, 
Princess  of  Carignan,  widow  of  the  most  high  the  Count  de 
Soissons,  Prince  Eoyal  of  Bourbon,  and  Prince  of  Carignan, 
to  appear  within  three  days  before  our  tribunal,  at  the  town- 
hall  of  our  good  city  of  Paris." 

The  trumpet  sounded  a  third  time,  and  another  beadle  con- 
tinued the  summons : 

"  And  we,  the  appointed  magistrate  of  the  venerable  city  of 
Paris,  do  hereby  accuse  said  Countess  Olympia  de  Soissons  and 
Princess  de  Carignan  of  sorcery  and  murder  by  poison.  If 
she  hold  herself  innocent  of  these  charges,  she  will  appear 
within  the  three  days  by  law  granted  her  wherein  to  answer 
our  summons.  If  she  do  not  appeal*  within  three  days,  she 
fihall  he  held  guilty  by  contumacy,  and  condemned." 

Scarcely  had  these  last  words  been  pronounced,  when  the 
people  broke  out  into  jubilant  shouts  over  the  fearless  recti- 


82  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES, 

tude  of  the  honorable  city  fathers,  who  were  not  afraid  to  lift 
the  avenging  arm  of  justice  against  criminals  in  high  places. 

Amid  the  din  that  followed,  Eugene  escaped  from  his  car- 
riage ta  the  private  entrance,  through  which  twice  before  he 
had  passed  in  such  indescribable  anguish  of  heart. 

Not  a  soul  was  there  to  greet  the  heir  of  this  princely  house, 
or  bid  him  welcome  home.  The  servant,  who,  after  his  re- 
peated knockings,  appeared  to  open  the  door,  gazed  at  his 
young  lord  with  a  countenance  wherein  terror  and  sympathy 
were  strangely  mingled. 

"  Are  the  princesses  at  home? "  asked  Eugene. 

"  No,  your  highness,  they  took  refuge  with  their  grand- 
mother, the  Princess  de  Carignan." 

"  Took  refuge ! "  echoed  Eugene,  staring  at  the  man  in  dumb 
dismay. 

"  Yes,  my  lord,  they  were  afraid  of  the  people,  who  have 
gathered  here  by  thousands  every  day  since  the  countess  left. 
This  is  the  third  summons  that  has  been  made  for  her  high- 
ness, and  at  each  one  the  people  of  Paris  have  flocked  to  the 
hotel  with  such  jeers  and  curses,  that  the  poor  young  ladies 
were  too  terrified  to  remain." 

"They  acted  prudently,"  replied  Eugene,  recovering  his 
self-possession.  "But  where  is  the  steward?  And  where  are 
the  other  servants? " 

"Latour  accompanied  the  princesses,  your  highness,  and 
h.as  not  returned.  The  remainder  of  the  household  have  taken 
service  elsewhere." 

"  What !  my  valet,  Dupont? " 

"  He  thought  your  highness  had  left  Paris  for  a  long  time, 
and  looked  for  another  master." 

"Then  how  comes  it  that  you  are  here,  Conrad?" 

"  I,  my  lord?  Oh,  that  is  quite  another  thing.  I  belong  to 
a  family  that  have  served  the  Princes  de  Carignan  for  three 
generations.  I  myself  have  served  them  from  my  boyhood, 
and  if  your  highness  does  not  discharge  me,  I  shall  not  do  so, 
were  the  hoterto  be  attacked  by  every  churl  in  Paris." 

As  Conrad  spoke  these  words,  Eugene  turned  and  looked 
affectionately  at  his  faithful  servant.  "Thank  you,  Conrad, 
for  your  loyalty  and  courage ;  I  can  never  grow  unmindful  of 


THE  PARTING.  83 

such  devotion.  From  this  day  you  become  my  valet,  and  if 
you  never  quit  my  service  until  I  discharge  you,  we  will  roam 
the  world  together  as  long  as  we  both  live !  " 

Tears  of  gratitude  glistened  in  Conrad's  honest  eyes.  "  Then 
to  the  day  of  my  death  I  remain  with  my  dear  lord,"  replied 
he,  kneeling,  and  devoutly  kissing  the  hand  which  Eugene 
had  extended.  "  And  I  swear  to  your  highness  love  and  fealty, 
while  God  gives  me  life  wherewith  to  serve  you." 

•'  I  believe  you,  Conrad,"  replied  Eugene,  kindly,  "  and  I 
thank  you  for  the  solitary  welcome  you  have  given  me  on  my 
return  to  this  unhappy  house.  Your  loving  words  have 
drowned  the  clang  of  yonder  trumpets  without. — And  now  let 
us  part  for  a  while :  I  feel  inclined  to  sleep." 

The  prince  turned  into  a  hall  that  led  to  his  apartments, 
and  entered  his  bed-chamber.  He  had  scarcely  taken  a  seat, 
and  leaned  his  weary  head  upon  his  hand,  before  the  trumpet 
pealed  another  blast,  and  the  beadle  again  summoned  the 
Coimtess  de  Soissons  to  answer  before  the  tribunal  of  justice 
for  her  crimes ! 

The  people  shouted  as  though  they  would  have  rent  the 
canopy  of  heaven ;  and  Eugene,  overcome  by  such  excess  of 
degradation,  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears. 


BOOK  n. 

CHAPTER  I. 

MARIANNA  MANCINI. 

For  a  day  Eugene  remained  in  his  room,  while  Conrad 
kept  vigil  in  the  antechamber  without.  The  unhappy  prince 
had  longed  so  intensely  for  the  privilege  of  grieving  without 
witnesses,  that  he  felt  as  if  no  boon  on  earth  was  compara- 
ble to  solitude.  Not  only  his  affections,  but  his  honor,  had 
been  mortally  wounded :  what  medicine  could  ever  restore  it 
to  life? 

And  through  the  long  night  Conrad  had  listened  to  his 
slow,  measured  step,  as  forth  and  back  he  had  paced  his  room 
in  the  vain  hope  of  wooing  sleep  to 

"  steep  his  senses  in  forgetfulness." 

Finally  day  dawned,  and  Conrad  then  ventured  to  knock  and 
inquire  whether  his  lord  would  not  breakfast.  The  door  was 
not  opened,  but  Eugene  thanked  him,  and  refused.  The  poor 
fellow  then  threw  himself  down  on  the  carpet  and  slept  for 
several  hours.  He  was  awakened  by  his  father,  the  only  serv- 
ant besides  himself  that  had  remained  to  share  the  humilia- 
tions of  the  family,  and  who  now  came  as  bearer  of  a  letter 
from  the  Duke  de  Bouillon,  which  was  to  be  delivered  to  the 
prince  without  delay. 

Delighted  to  have  a  pretext  that  might  gain  him  admit- 
tance to  the  presence  of  his  master,  Conrad  sprang  up  and 
knocked.  The  door  was  just  sufficiently  opened  to  give  pas- 
sage to  the  latter,  was  hastily  closed,  and  the  bolt  was  heard  to 
slide.  But  two  hours  later  Eugene  appeared,  and  greeted  his 
two  faithful  attendants  with  a  gracious  inclination  of  the  head. 

"  Now,  Conrad,"  said  he,  "  I  am  ready  to  oblige  you  by  tak- 
ing my  breakfast.    Immediately  after,  I  shall  go  out,  and,  as 

(84) 


MARIANNA  MANCINL  85 

I  gx)  on  an  affair  of  importance,  order  the  state-coach,  two 
footmen,  and  two  outriders.  What  makes  you  look  so  blamk? 
Does  it  seem  singular  that  I  ride  in  state  through  the  streets  of 
Paris?" 

"  Grod  forbid,  your  highness  I "  exclaimed  Conrad,  "  but — " 

♦'But—" 

"But  we  have  no  footmen — no  outriders,  your  highness." 

"  True,"  said  Eugene,  "  I  had  forgotten.  But  I  suppose  that 
the  rascals  may  be  found  and  re-engaged.  Go  after  them, 
Conrad,  and — stay— where  is  the  steward?  " 

"  He  went  with  the  princesses  to  the  Hotel  Carignan,  your 
highness." 

"  True — true — ^you  told  me  so  yesterday.  Gro  to  him,  Con- 
rad; bid  him  return  and  resume  his  duties,  for  the  Hotel  de 
Soissons  must  be  open,  and  I  must  have  a  household  befitting 
my  rank.  Be  as  diligent  as  you  can,  my  good  fellow,  and  let 
the  carriage  be  before  the  entrance  in  one  hour." 

"  But  first,  your  highness  must  breakfast." 

"  And  how  can  I  breakfast  if  all  the  servants  have  desert- 
ed ?  Or  has  the  cook  been  more  loyal  than  his  compan- 
ions ? " 

"  No,  your  highness  ;  he  went  with  the  rest,  but  he  is  in  the 
neighborhood,  and  will  be  glad  to  return." 

"  I  am  rejoiced  to  hear  it.  Fetch  him,  then,  and  let  him 
provide  breakfast.  But,  above  all  things,  find  me  footmen  and 
outriders.  I  would  rather  go  out  hungry  than  without  attend- 
ants." 

"  Your  highness  shall  have  all  you  desire,"  returned  Con- 
rad, with  alacrity  ;  and  he  kept  his  word.  An  hour  later,  the 
state-coach  stood  before  the  portal  of  the  palace,  and  the  out- 
riders and  footmen  were  each  man  in  his  proper  place.  The 
prince  had  partaken  of  an  excellent  breakfast,  and  was  ad- 
vancing to  his  carriage. 

When  he  saw  old  Philip,  the  coachman,  he  gave  him  a 
look  of  grateful  recognition,  and  inquired  whether  he  had  re- 
covered from  the  fatigues  of  their  uncomfortable  journey. 

"  I  endured  no  fatigue,  your  highness,"  waa  the  old  man*8 
reply.     "  I  waa  on  duty,  and  had  no  right  to  be  fatigued." 

"  Bravely  answered,"  returned  Eugene.    "  I  see  that  you, 


86  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

at  least,  are  anciianged,  and  I  may  rely  upon  your  loyalty. 
And  tlie  rest  of  you,"  continued  he,  looking  searchingly 
around  at  the  captured  deserters,  "  you  have  returned,  I  per« 
ceive." 

"  Your  highness,"  replied  one  of  them,  eagerly,  "  I  had  the 
honor  of  accompanying  you  to  Flanders." 

"  Oh,  I  do  not  allude  to  you,  Louis.  I  know  that  I  can 
count  upon  you." 

"  We,  too,  are  loyal,  your  highness,"  replied  the  others, 
"  and  are  ready  to  serve  you  from  the  bottom  of  our  hearts. 
The  hotel  was  empty,  and  we  had  supposed  ourselves  to  be 
without  places.     But  we  are  only  too  happy  to  return." 

"  Very  well,  I  shall  have  occasion  to  test  your  fidelity  this 
very  day.  Conrad,  get  in  the  coach  with  me.  I  desire  to  con- 
verse with  you  in  private." 

Conrad  dared  not  disobey,  although  to  sit  opposite  to  his 
master  in  a  carriage,  seemed  to  him  the  acme  of  presumption. 
He  took  his  seat  with  a  look  of  most  comic  embarrassment, 
and  stared  at  the  prince  as  though  he  suspected  him  of  being 
suddenly  attacked  with  insanity. 

"  To  the  Hotel  Bouillon ! "  was  the  order  given,  and  the 
coach  went  thundering  through  the  gates  toward  the  Quai 
Malaquais.  It  was  stared  at,  precisely  as  before,  when  Eugene 
and  his  mother  had  attempted  to  join  the  royal  cortege  at  the 
Pre  aux  Clercs.  The  people  sneered  at  the  equipage  and  es- 
cutcheon of  a  countess,  who,  for  three  days  in  succession,  had 
been  publicly  summoned  before  the  tribunal  of  justice;  but  of 
the  young  prince,  who  was  the  solitary  occupant  of  the  coach, 
they  took  no  notice  whatever.  He  was  not  guilty,  therefore 
he  provoked  no  curiosity ;  he  was  not  handsome,  therefore  he 
attracted  no  attention.  As  lonely  and  heart  sick  his  head  re- 
clined amid  the  velvet  cushions,  whose  silken  threads  seemed 
each  a  pricking  thorn  to  give  him  pain,  Eugene's  resolves  of 
vengeance  deepened  into  vows,  and  he  swore  an  oath  of  en- 
mity against  his  mother's  enemies,  which  long  years  after  he 
redeemed. 

Conrad  was  perplexed,  and  ashamed  of  the  honor  conferred 
upon  him  ;  but  when  after  a  long  pause  Eugene  began  to 
speak  in  low,  earnest  tones,  the  embarrassed  expression  of  the 


MARIANNA  MANCINL  87 

valet's  countenance  gave  place  to  a  look  of  interest,  and  finally 
he  ventured  a  smile. 

"  Indeed,  your  highness,"  replied  he,  "  it  shall  be  accom- 
plished to  your  entire  satisfaction,  and  old  Philip  will  be  de- 
lighted to  be  of  the  party.  He  is  already  burning  to  revenge 
himself  upon  the  Louvois  family  for  taking  precedence  of 
carriages  that  have  the  right  to  go  before  them ;  and  he  has 
more  than  once  approached  the  coachmen  of  the  nobles  thus 
insulted,  for  their  cowardice  in  suffering  it." 

"  Well — you  will  both  have  an  opportimity  of  exhibiting 
your  powers  to-day  in  the  Pre  aux  Clercs,  and  I  only  hope  that 
the  court  will  be  there  to  witness  it." 

"  Philip  will  not  fail,  your  highness,  nor  I  either." 

*'  Thank  you.  There  may  be  an  affray,  and  perchance  a 
blow  or  two  in  store  for  you ;  but  I  will  reward  you  hand- 
somely. But  what  is  this  ?  The  carriage  has  stopped,  and  we 
have  not  yet  reached  the  Hotel  de  Bouillon." 

Conrad  sprang  out  to  ascertain  the  cause  of  their  deten- 
tion. 

"  Your  highness,"  said  he,  returning,  "  we  cannot  proceed 
any  farther.  The  street  is  blocked  up  with  carriages  that  ex- 
tend all  the  way  to  the  entrance  of  the  hotel.  Some  of  them 
are  equipages  of  the  princes  of  the  blood." 

"  Then  I  must  go  on  foot,  and  you  and  Philip  can  profit 
by  your  leisure  to  discuss  the  manner  of  your  attack.  But  by 
all  means  let  it  be  in  the  Pre  aux  Clercs,  where  all  these  car- 
riages will  be  filled  with  occupants." 

So  saying,  Eugene  alighted,  and  hurried  to  the  hotel.  Its 
large  portals  were  fiung  wide  open,  and  streams  of  elegantly- 
dressed  courtiers  and  ladies  were  entering  the  palace.  In  such 
a  crowd,  where  the  men  were  in  glittering  uniforms,  and  the 
women,  resplendent  with  diamonds,  wore  long  trains  of  vel- 
vet or  satin,  borne  by  gayly-attired  pages,  nobody  had  eyes  for 
a  little  abbe,  clad  in  russet  gown,  with  buttons  of  brass  ;  so 
that  Eugene  was  more  than  once  forced  back  before  lie  made 
his  way  to  the  state  apartments.  Step  by  step  he  advanced, 
until  at  last  he  reached  the  centre  of  the  room,  where  the 
family  were  assembled  to  receive  their  distinguished  guests. 

The  duke,  in  the  uniform  of  a  general,  stood  in  the  midst 
7 


88  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

of  the  group.  At  his  side  was  the  duchess,  the  celebrated 
Marianna  Mancini,  the  rival  of  Olympia  de  Soissons,  not  only 
in  the  affections  of  Cardinal  Mazarin,  but  also  in  those  of  the 
king.  When  the  heart  of  Louis  had  wearied  of  the  elder 
sister,  its  capricious  longings  fluttered  toward  the  younger,  for 
whose  sake  he  deserted  La  Valliere,  and  to  whom,  for  a  season, 
he  swore  every  imaginable  vow  of  love  and  eternal  constancy. 

Marianna  had  gained  wisdom  from  the  experience  of  her 
sister.  Quite  convinced  of  the  transitory  nature  of  a  king's 
favor,  she  formed  the  bold  design  of  capturing  the  hand  as 
well  as  the  heart  of  his  majesty  of  France.  Perhaps  Louis 
fathomed  her  intentions,  and  resolved  to  punish  her  ambition, 
for  he  suddenly  manifested  a  willingness  to  marry  the  Spanish 
princess,  whom  Mazarin  had  vainly  endeavored  to  force  upon 
liim  as  a  wife  ;  and  Marianna,  like  her  sister,  sought  con- 
solation in  marriage  with  another,  and  became  Duchess  de 
Bouillon.* 

Years  had  gone  by,  but  Marianna  was  still  a  court  beauty, 
and  she  still  possessed  a  certain  influence  over  the  heart  of  her 
royal  admirer.  She  alone  refused  to  do  homage  to  De  Mon- 
tespan,  and  she  alone  ventured  to  interrupt  the  pious  con- 
versations of  the  king  with  his  new  favorite  De  Maintenon. 
When  the  obsequious  courtiers  were  vying  with  each  other  as 
to  who  should  minister  most  successfully  to  the  vanity  of  the 
monarch  that  considered  himself  as  the  state  ;  when  princes 
^nd  princesses  listened  breathlessly  to  the  oracles  that  fell 
from  his  inspired  lips,  the  Duchess  de  Bouillon  was  not  afraid 
to  break  their  reverential  silence,  by  conversing  at  her  ease 
in  a  tone  of  voice  quite  as  audible  as  that  of  his  majesty. 

She  stood  in  the  midst  of  that  brilliant  throng,  accepting 
their  homage  as  though  she  had  been  born  to  a  throne,  and 
dispensing  gracious  words  with  the  proud  consciousness  that 
every  smile  of  hers  was  received  as  a  condescension.  And 
yet,  in  that  very  hour,  the  Duchess  de  Bouillon  was  under  im- 
peachment for  crime.  Her  summons  had  been  sent  "  in  the 
name  of  the  king  ; "  but  everybody  knew  that  it  was  the  work 
of  Louvois,  and  everybody  knew  equally  well  that  the  com- 

*  This  is  a  mistake.  The  one  whom  Louis  loved  was  Marie  Mancini, 
Princess  of  Colonna. — Tbans. 


MARIANNA  MANCINL  89 

pliment  paid  to  the  duchess  that  day,  was  especially  gi'atifying 
to  the  king,  who  himself  had  suggested  it  as  a  means  of  vex- 
ing his  arrogant  minister. 

That  morning,  his  majesty  had  held  a  grand  levee,  which 
was  punctually  attended  by  all  who  had  the  inestimable  privi- 
lege of  appearing  there.  Louis  received  his  courtiers  with 
that  gay  and  smiling  affability  which  was  the  result  of  his 
temperament,  and  had  procured  for  him  from  one  of  his  ador- 
ers the  surname  of  Phoebus.  But,  all  of  a  sudden,  a  cloud 
was  seen  to  obscure  the  face  of  the  sun,  and  the  dismayed 
sycophants  wei*e  in  a  flutter  to  know  what  was  passing  behind 
it.  The  firmament  had  darkened  at  the  approach  of  the  Duke 
de  Vendome  and  the  Cardinal  d'Albret. 

"My  lords,"  said  the  king,  curtly,  ''I  am  surprised  to  see 
you  here.  Methinks  the  proper  place  for  you  both  this  morn- 
ing would  be  at  the  side  of  your  relative,  the  Duchess  de  Bou- 
illon." 

"  Sire,"  replied  the  young  duke,  "  I  came  to  see  if  the  sun 
had  risen.  I  behold  it  now;  and  since  the  day  has  dawned 
on  which  my  aunt  is  to  appear  before  her  accusers,  I  hasten 
whither  duty  calls,  to  take  my  place  among  her  adherents." 

"  And  you,  cardinal? "  said  Louis,  to  the  handsome  brother 
of  the  Duke  de  Bouillon. 

"  I,  my  sovereign,  am  accustomed  to  say  my  orisons  before 
turning  my  thoughts  to  the  affairs  of  this  world.  Now  that  I 
have  worshipped  at  the  shrine  of  my  earthly  divinity,  I  am 
ready  to  admit  the  claims  of  my  noble  sister-in-law." 

The  king  received  all  this  adulation  as  a  matter  of  course, 
and,  without  vouchsafing  any  reply,  turned  to  his  confessor. 
P6re  la  Chaise  looked  displeased;  he  had  no  relish  for  court 
nonsense  at  any  time;  but  what  availed  his  exhortations  to 
humility,  if  his  royal  penitent  was  to  have  his  ears  poisoned 
with  such  abominable  stuff  as  this ! 

Louis  guessed  somewhat  the  nature  of  his  confessor's  vexa- 
tion, for  he  blushed,  and  spoke  in  a  mild,  conciliatory  tone: 

**  Pardon  me,  father,  if  this  morning  1  have  ventured  to 
permit  the  things  of  this  world  to  take  precedence  of  things 
spiritual.  But  a  king  should  be  ready  at  all  hours  to  do  justice 
unto  all  men;  and  as  this  is  the  day  fixed  for  the  trial  of  a 


90  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

noble  lady  of  France,  for  crimes  of  which  I  hope  and  believe 
that  she  will  be  found  innocent,  I  have  deemed  it  proper  to 
show  my  impartiality  by  upholding  those  who  have  the  cour- 
age to  avow  themselves  champions  or  defenders  of  the  Duchess 
de  Bouillon.     Come,  father,  let  us  hasten  to  the  chapel." 

He  rose  from  his  couch,  and,  with  head  bowed  down,  trav- 
ersed his  apartments,  until  he  reached  a  side-door  which  com- 
municated with  the  rooms  of  the  Marquise  de  Maintenon.  On 
either  side  were  long  rows  of  obsequious  courtiers,  imitating  as 
far  as  they  could  the  devotional  demeanor  of  the  king;  and, 
following  the  latter,  came  Pere  la  Chaise — the  only  man  in  all 
the  crowd  who  walked  with  head  erect.  His  large,  dark  eyes 
wandered  from  one  courtier  to  another,  and  their  glances  were 
as  significant  as  words.  They  asserted  his  supremacy  over 
king  and  court ;  they  proclaimed  him  the  ambassador  of  the 
King  of  kings. 

At  the  threshold  Louis  turned,  and,  letting  fall  the  mantle 
of  his  humility,  addressed  his  courtiers. 

"  My  lords,"  said  he,  imperiously,  "  we  dispense  with  your 
attendance  in  chapel  this  morning,  and  you  are  all  free  to  go 
whithersoever  you  deem  best." 

With  a  slight  bend  of  the  head,  he  passed  through  the  por- 
tiere and  disappeared.  The  courtiers  had  comprehended  the 
motive  of  their  dismissal :  it  was  a  command  from  his  majesty 
to  repair  to  the  Hotel  de  Bouillon.  They  hastened  to  avail 
themselves  of  the  royal  permission,  and  one  and  all  were 
shortly  after  in  presence  of  the  duchess,  offering  sympathy, 
countenance,  and  homage. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  TRIAL. 

While  she  received  her  numerous  visitors  with  cordiality, 
Marianna  Mancini  tempered  her  affability  with  just  enough  of 
stateliness  to  make  it  appear  that  their  presence  there  was  a 
matter  of  course,  and  not  of  significance.     She  had  arrayed 


THE  TRIAL.  91 

herself  with  great  splendor  for  this  extraordinary  occasion  of 
mingled  humiliation  and  triumph.  She  wore  a  dress  of  rose- 
colored  satin,  whos«j  folds,  as  she  moved,  changed  from  the 
rich  hues  of  the  carnation  to  the  delicate  tinge  of  the  peach- 
blossom.  Her  neck  and  arms  were  resplendent  with  dia- 
monds, and  her  whole  person  seemed  invested  with  more  than 
its  usual  majesty  and  grace. 

She  saw  Eugene,  who  was  making  vain  endeavors  to  ap- 
proach her.  With  mock-heroic  air,  she  raised  her  white  arm, 
and  motioned  away  those  who  were  immediately  around  her 
person. 

"Let  me  request  the  mourners,"  said  she,  "to  give 
place  to  the  priest,  who  advances  to  hear  the  last  confession 
of  the  criminal.  Poor  little  abbe!  How  will  he  manage 
to  sustain  the  weight  of  the  iniquities  I  shall  pour  into  his 
ears?" 

A  merry  laugh  followed  this  sally,  and  all  eyes  were  turned 
upon  Eugene,  who,  blushing  like  a  maiden,  kissed  his  aunt's 
outstretched  hand,  but  was  too  much  embarrassed  to  reply  to 
her  greeting. 

"  Prince,"  said  a  tall  personage  coming  forward,  "  will  you 
allow  me  to  act  as  your  substitute?  My  shoulders  are  broad, 
and  will  gladly  bear  the  burden  of  all  the  sins  that  have  ever 
been  committed  by  your  charmiug  penitent." 

"  I  dare  say.  Monsieur  la  Fontaine,"  replied  Eugene,  recov- 
ering himself,  "  and  they  will  incommode  you  no  longer  than 
the  time  it  will  occupy  you  to  weave  them  into  a  tissue  of 
pleasant  fables.  ^^ 

"  Thanks,  gallant  abbel "  cried  Marianna,  pleased.  "  Yoa 
look  upon  my  crimes,  then,  as  fiction? " 

"  Yes,  dearest  aunt,"  said  Eugene,  resolutely;  " they  are,  I 
heartily  believe,  as  fictitious  as  those  attributed  to  my  dear  and 
honored  mother." 

As  he  spoke,  Eugene's  large  eyes  looked  courageously 
around,  to  read  the  countenances  of  the  men  that  were  listen- 
ing. Whatever  they  might  think  of  the  mother,  the  chivalry 
of  her  son  was  indisputable,  and  no  one  was  disposed  to  wound 
his  filial  piety  by  so  much  as  a  supercilious  glance. 

The  silence  that  ensued  was  broken  by  I^a  Fontaine.    "  Did 


92  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

you  know,"  said  he,  ''that  Madame  de  Coulanges  had  been 
summoned  to  trial  yesterday?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  duchess,  "  but  I  have  not  heard  the  re- 
sult.    Can  you  tell  it  to  us,  my  dear  La  Fontaine? " 

"  I  can.  The  judges  paid  her  a  compliment  which  I  am 
sure  she  has  not  received  from  anybody  else,  since  the  days  of 
her  childhood." 

"  What  was  it? " 

"  They  gave  in  a  verdict  of innocent." 

A  hearty  laugh  followed  this  satire  of  La  Fontaine's,  and 
the  duchess  indulged  in  so  much  mirth  thereat,  that  her  eyes 
sparkled  like  the  brilliants  on  her  person,  and  her  cheeks 
flushed  until  they  rivalled  the  deepest  hues  of  her  pink  dress. 

"Ah!"  cried  La  Fontaine,  betiding  the  knee  before  her, 
"  La  mere  des  amours,  et  la  reine  des  graces,  c'est  Bouillon,  et 
Venus  lui  cede  ses  emplois."  * 

"  Go  on,  go  on,  fabulist !  "  cried  Marianna,  laughing. 

La  Fontaine  continued : 

""  Ah,  que  Marianne  a  de  beautes,  de  graces,  et  de  charmes ; 
Elle  salt  enchanter  et  I'esprit  et  les  yeux ; 
Mortels,  aimez-la  tous !  mais  ce  n'est  qu'a  des  dieux, 
Qu'est  reserve  I'honneur  de  lui  rendre  les  armes  ! "  f 

"  Do  you,  then,  desert  and  go  over  to  my  enemies  ? "  asked 
the  duchess,  reproachfully. 

"  I !  "  exclaimed  La  Fontaine,  rising  to  his  feet.  "  Who 
could  so  calumniate  me  ? " 

"  Why,  did  not  you  say  '  elle  sait  enchanter '  ?  And  is  not 
that  the  very  crime  of  which  I  am  accused  ? " 

La  Fontaine  was  about  to  make  some  witty  reply  to  this 
sportive  reproach,  when  the  Duke  de  Bouillon  announced  to 
the  duchess  that  she  must  prepare  herself  to  appear  before  her 
judges. 

"  I  am  ready,"  was  the  response,  and  Marianna  passed  her 
arm  within  that  of  her  husband. 

"  My  friends,"  said  she,  addressing  all  present,  "  I  invite 

♦  La  Fontaine's  "  Letters  to  the  Duchess  de  Bouillon,"  p.  49. 
t  See  Works  of  La  Fontaine. 


THE  TRIAL.  93 

you  to  accompany  me  on  my  excursion  to  the  Arsenal.  Come, 
Ehigene,  give  me  your  other  arm.  It  is  fit  that  the  criminal 
should  go  before  her  accusers  between  her  confessor  and  her 
victim." 

"Madame,"  returned  Eugene,  frowning,  "I  am  no  con- 
fessor. A  confessor  should  be  an  anointed  of  the  Lord,  which 
I  am  not." 

"  Not  anointed ! "  exclaimed  the  duchess.  "  I  have  an  ex- 
cellent receipt  for  unguent  given  me  by  La  Voisin;  and,  if 
you  promise  that  I  shall  not  be  made  to  mount  the  scaffold  for 
my  obliging  act,  I  will  anoint  you  myself,  whenever  you  like." 

"  Mount  the  scaffold ! "  cried  La  Fontaine.  *'  For  such  as 
you,  duchess,  we  erect  altars,  not  scaffolds.  True,  you  have 
bewitched  our  hearts,  but  we  forgive  you,  and  hope  to  witness, 
not  your  disgrace,  but  your  triumph." 

And,  indeed,  the  exit  of  the  Duchess  de  Bouillon  had  the 
appearance  of  an  ovation.  The  streets  were  lined  with  peo- 
ple, who  greeted  her  with  acclamations,  as  though  they  were 
longing  to  indemnify  one  sister  for  the  obloquy  they  had 
heaped  upon  the  other.  The  aristocracy,  too,  felt  impelled  to 
avenge  the  insult  offered  to  their  order  by  the  impeachment 
of  the  Countess  de  Soissons.  In  the  cortege  of  the  Duchess  de 
Bouillon  were  all  the  flower  of  the  French  nobility ;  and  such 
as  had  not  joined  her  train  were  at  their  windows,  waving 
their  handkerchiefs  and  kissing  their  hands  to  Marianna,  who, 
in  a  state-carriage  drawn  by  eight  horses,  returned  their  greet- 
ings with  as  much  unconcern  as  if  she  had  been  on  her  way 
to  her  own  coronation. 

Next  to  her  equipage  was  that  of  the  Countess  de  Soissons ; 
and  bitter  were  the  feelings  with  which  Eugene  gazed  upon 
the  multitude,  who,  but  a  few  days  before,  had  driven  his 
mother  into  exile.  He  was  absorbed  in  his  own  sorrowful 
musings,  when  the  carriage  stopped,  and  it  became  his  duty  to 
alight  and  hand  out  his  aunt. 

She  received  him  with  unruffled  smiles,  and  they  entered 
the  corridors  of  the  Arsenal.  Behind  them  came  a  gay  con- 
course of  nobles,  drawn  out  in  one  long  glittering  line,  which, 
like  a  gilded  serpent,  glided  through  the  darksome  windings 
of  that  gloomy  palace  of  justice. 


94:  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

The  usher  that  was  stationed  at  the  entrance  of  the  council- 
chamber  was  transfixed  with  amazement  at  the  sight.  He 
rubbed  his  eyes,  and  wondered  whether  he  had  fallen  asleep 
and  was  dreaming  of  the  fairy  tales  that  years  ago  had  de- 
lighted his  childhood.  And  when  he  saw  the  duchess  smile, 
and  heard  her  ringing  laugh,  he  was  so  bewitched  with  its 
music  that,  instead  of  challenging  her  train  of  followers,  he 
suffered  them  every  one  to  pass  into  the  chamber  without  a 
protest. 

At  the  upper  end  of  the  hall  of  council,  seated  around  a 
table  covered  with  a  heavy  black  cloth,  were  the  judges  in 
their  funeral  gowns  and  long  wigs,  which  floated  like  ominous 
clouds  around  their  sinister  faces.  Close  by,  at  a  smaller  table 
similarly  draped,  sat  the  six  lateral  judges  of  the  criminal 
court,  and  the  scribes,  who  were  prepared  to  take  notes  of  all 
that  was  said  during  the  trial. 

When  Marianna  came  in,  with  her  cortege  stretching  out 
behind  her  like  the  tail  of  a  comet,  the  pens  dropped  from  their 
hands  and  the  solemn  judges  themselves  looked  around  in 
undisguised  astonishment. 

The  duchess,  affecting  complete  unconsciousness  of  the  sen- 
sation she  was  creating,  came  in  smiling,  graceful,  and  self- 
possessed.  While  the  frowning  faces  of  the  judiciary  scanned 
the  gay  host  of  intruders,  who  were  desecrating  the  solemnity 
of  the  council-chamber  with  their  levity,  the  duchess  advanced 
until  she  stood  directly  in  front  of  their  table,  and  there  she 
smiled  again  and  inclined  her  head. 

The  judges  were  still  more  astounded — so  much  so,  that 
they  were  at  a  loss  how  to  express  their  indignation.  It  took 
the  form  of  exceeding  respect,  and  their  great  black  wigs  were 
all  simultaneously  bent  down  in  acknowledgment  of  the  lady's 
greeting. 

The  only  one  among  them  who  allowed  expression  to  his 
displeasure  was  the  presiding  judge,  Laraynie,  who,  with  a 
view  to  remind  the  criminal  that  her  blandishments  were  out 
of  place,  stiffened  himself  considerably. 

"  The  Duchess  de  Bouillon  has  been  summoned  before  this 
august  tribunal  to  answer  for  the  crimes  with  which  she  has 
been  charged,"  said  he,  severely.     "  Are  you  the  accused  2  '* 


THE  TRIAL.  95 

"  My  dear  president,"  returned  Marianna,  flippantly,  "  how 
can  you  be  so  absurd  ?  If  you  have  forgotten  me,  I  perfectly 
remember  yoii.  You  were  formerly  amanuensis  to  my  uncle, 
Cardinal  Mazarin,  who  promoted  you  to  the  office,  because  of 
your  dexterity  in  mending  pens.  Yes,  I  am  the  Duchess  de 
Bouillon,  and  nobody  has  a  better  right  to  know  it  than  you, 
who  wrote  out  my  marriage  contract,  and  were  handsomely 
paid  for  your  trouble." 

''  Our  business  is  not  with  the  past,  but  the  present,"  replied 
Laraynie,  haughtily.  "  The  question  is  not  whether  you  are 
or  are  not  the  niece  of  the  deceased  Cardinal  Mazarin,  but 
whether  you  are  or  are  not  guilty  of  the  crimes  for  which  you 
have  been  summoned  hither  ? — " 

*' Which  summons,  you  perceive,  I  have  obeyed,"  inter- 
rupted the  duchess.  "  But  I  pray  you  to  understand  that  I 
acknowledge  no  right  of  yours  to  cite  a  duchess  before  your 
tribunal,  sir.  If  I  come  at  your  call,  it  is  because  it  has 
been  made  in  the  name  of  the  king,  my  sovereign  and 
yours  ! "  * 

"  You  have  obeyed  the  citation,  because  it  was  your  duty 
to  obey  it,"  returned  Laraynie.  "  But  I  see  here  a  multitude 
who  have  come  neither  by  indictment  nor  invitation.  It  is 
natural  enough  that  the  Duke  de  Bouillon  should  accompany 
his  spouse  on  an  occasion  of  such  solemn  import  to  her  safety ; 
but  who  are  all  these  people  that  have  obtruded  themselves 
upon  our  presence  ? " 

"Did  you  not  comply  with  my  husband's  request  that  I 
might  be  accompanied  to  the  Arsenal  by  a  few  of  my 
friends  ? " 

"Yes — his  petition  was  granted." 

"  Well,  then,"  replied  Marianna,  turning  toward  the  bril- 
liant assembly  that  had  grouped  themselves  around  the  room 
in  a  circle,  **  these  are  a  few  of  my  most  particular  friends. 
You  see  on  my  right  the  Dukes  de  Vendome  and  d' Albret,  and 
the  Prince  of  Savoy ;  on  my  left,  the  Prince  de  Chatillon,  and 
others  with  whose  names  and  persons  you  were  familiar  in 
the  days  of  your  secretaryship  under  Cardinal  Mazarin." 

*The  dachesB^  own  words.— S«e  Ben^,  **The  Nieoet  of  Mazarin." 
pw895. 


96  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

"  To  our  business ! "  cried  Laraynie,  angrily.  "  We  will 
begin  the  examination." 

"  First  let  me  bave  a  seat,"  replied  the  duchess,  looking 
around,  as  though  she  had  expected  an  accommodation  of  the 
kind.  There  was  not  even  a  stool  to  be  seen  in  the  council' 
chamber.  But  at  the  table  of  the  judges  stood  a  vacant  arm- 
chair, the  property  of  some  absent  member  ;  and  in  the  twink- 
ling of  an  eye  Eugene  had  perceived  and  rolled  it  forward. 
He  placed  it  respectfully  behind  his  aunt,  and  resumed  his 
position  on  her  left. 

This  bold  act  was  received  by  the  judiciary  with  a  frown, 
by  the  other  spectators  with  a  murmur  of  applause,  and  by  the 
beautiful  daughter  of  the  house  of  Mancini  with  one  of  those 
bewitching  smiles  which  have  been  celebrated  in  the  sonnets 
of  Benserade,  Corneille,  Moliere,  St.  Evremont,  and  La  Fon- 
taine. 

She  sank  into  the  luxurious  depths  of  the  arm-chair,  and 
her  "particular  friends"  drew  nearer,  and  stationed  them- 
selves around  it. 

"  Now,  gentlemen,"  said  she,  in  the  tone  of  a  queen  about 
to  hold  a  levee,  "now  I  am  ready.  What  is  it  that  you  are 
curious  to  know  as  regards  my  manner  of  life  ? " 

"  First,  your  name,  title,  rank,  position,  age,  and—" 

"  Oh,  gentlemen  ! "  cried  Marianna,  interrupting  the  presi- 
dent in  his  nomenclature,  "  is  it  possible  that  you  can  be  so 
uncivil  as  to  ask  a  lady  her  age  ?  I  warn  you,  if  you  persist  in 
your  indiscreet  curiosity,  that  you  will  compel  me  to  resort  to 
falsehood,  for  I  positively  will  not  tell  you  how  old  I  am.  As 
regards  the  rest  of  your  questions,  you  are  all  acquainted 
with  my  name,  title,  rank,  and  position.  Let  us  com^  to  the 
point." 

"  So  be  it,"  replied  the  president,  who  was  gradually  chang- 
ing his  tone,  and  assuming  a  demeanor  less  haughty  toward 
the  duchess.  "  You  are  accused  of  an  attempt  on  the  life  of 
the  Duke  de  Bouillon." 

"  Who  are  my  accusers  ? "  asked  Marianna, 

"You  shall  hear,"  replied  Laraynie,  trying  to  resume 
his  official  severity.  "Are  you  acquainted  with  La  Voi' 
sin?" 


THE  TRIAL.  97 

"  Yes,  I  know  her,"  said  Marianna,  "without  any  embarrass- 
ment whatever. 

"Why  did  you  desire  to  rid  yourself  of  your  husband  ? " 
was  the  second  interrogatory. 

"  To  rid  myself  of  my  husband  ! "  cried  the  duchess,  with 
a  merry  laugh.  Then  turning  to  the  duke,  "  Ask  him  whether 
he  believes  that  I  ever  meditated  harm  toward  him." 

"  No ! "  exclaimed  the  duke.  "  No !  She  has  ever  been  to 
me  a  true  and  loving  wife,  and  we  have  lived  too  happily  to- 
gether for  her  ever  to  have  harbored  ill-will  toward  me.  Of 
evil  deeds,  my  honored  wife  is  incapable ! " 

"  You  hear  him,  judges  ;  you  hear  him !  "  exclaimed  Mari- 
anna, her  face  beaming  with  exultation.  '*  What  more  have 
you  to  ask  of  me  now? " 

"  Why  were  you  in  the  habit  of  visiting  La  Voisin? " 

"Because  she  was  shrewd  and  entertaining,  and  because 
she  promised  me  an  interview  with  spirits." 

"  Did  you  not  show  her  a  purse  of  gold,  and  promised  it  to 
her  in  case  these  spirits  made  their  appearance  ? " 

"  No !  "  said  Marianna,  emphatically,  "  and  that  for  the  best 
of  reasons.  I  never  was  possessed  of  any  but  an  empty  purse 
— a  melancholy  truth,  to  which  my  husband  here  can  l)ear  wit- 
ness. That  I  may  have  promised  gold  to  La  Voisin  is  just  possi- 
ble, but  that  she  ever  saw  any  in  my  possession  is  impossible." 

Marianna  glanced  at  her  friends,  who  returned  her  look 
with  approving  nods  and  smiles. 

*'  You  deny,  then,"  continued  the  judge,  not  exactly  know- 
ing what  to  say  next,  '*  you  deny  that  you  ever  made  an  at^ 
tempt  to  poison  your  husband? " 

*'  I  do,  and  I  am  sure  that  La  Voisin  never  originated  a  cal- 
umny so  base.  But  I  confess  that  I  waa  dying  to  see  the 
spirits.  Unhappily,  although  La.  Voisin  called  them,  they 
never  came." 

"You  confess,  then,  that  joudid  instigate  La  Voisin  to  cite 
spirits  ? " 

"  I  certainly  did,  but  it  was  all  to  no  purpose.  The  spirits 
were  excessively  disobliging,  and  refused  to  appear." 

Another  murmur  of  approbation  was  heard  among  the 
friends  of  the  duchess,  some  of  whom  applauded  audibly. 


98  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

"  You  are  accused  not  only  of  raising  spirits,  but  of  citing 
the  devil,''  pursued  Laraynie,  in  tones  of  marked  reproof. 
"  Have  you  ever  seen  the  devil? " 

"  Oh,  yes !  He  is  before  me  now.  He  is  old,  ugly,  and 
wears  the  disguise  of  a  presiding  judge." 

This  time  the  applause  rang  through  the  council-chamber. 
It  was  accompanied  by  shouts  of  laughter,  and  no  more  at- 
tempt was  made  by  the  amused  spectators  to  preserve  the  least 
semblance  of  decorum.  The  president,  pale  with  rage,  rose 
from  his  seat,  and  darting  fiery  glances  at  the  irreverent 
crowd,  whom  the  duchess  had  named  as  her  particular  friends, 
he  cried  out : 

"  The  trial  is  over,  and  I  hereby  dismiss  the  court." 

"  What — already  ?  "  said  the  duchess,  rising  languidly  from 
her  seat.  "  Have  you  nothing  more  to  say  to  me,  my  dear 
President  Laraynie? " 

Her  "  dear  president"  vouchsafed  not  a  word  in  reply ;  he 
motioned  to  his  compeers  to  rise,  and  they  all  betook  them- 
selves to  their  hall  of  conference.  When  the  door  had  closed 
behind  them,  Marianna  addressed  her  friends. 

"  My  lords,"  said  she,  "  I  must  apologize  for  the  exceeding 
dulness  of  the  scene  you  have  just  witnessed.  But  who 
would  ever  have  imagined  that  such  wise  men  could  ask  such 
a  tissue  of  silly  questions?  I  had  hoped  to  experience  a  sen- 
sation by  having  a  distant  glimpse  of  the  headsman's  axe,  and 
lo !  I  am  cheated  into  an  exhibition  of  President  Laraynie's 
long  ears !  '*  * 

"  Come,  Marianna,"  said  her  husband,  passing  her  arm 
within  his.  "  It  is  time  for  our  drive  to  the  Pre  aux  Clercs ; 
the  king  and  court  are  doubtless  there  already." 

"  And  I  shall  annoy  Madame  de  Maintenon  by  entertaining 
his  majesty  with  an  account  of  the  absurd  comedy  that  has 
just  been  performed  in  the  council-chamber  of  the  Arsenal. " 

So  saying,  Marianna  led  the  way,  and,  followed  by  her  ad- 
herents, left  the  tribunal  of  justice,  and  drove  off  in  triumph 
to  the  Pre  aux  Clercs. 

*  The  duchess's  own  words.  This  account  of  the  trial  is  historical.  — Se«» 
R4nee,  "  The  Nieces  of  Mazarin,"  p.  395. 


A  SKIRMISH.  99 

CHAPTER  m. 

A    SKIRMISH. 

Instead  of  accompanying  his  aunt  from  the  council- 
chamber  to  her  carriage,  Eugene  fell  back,  and  joined  two 
young  men,  who  were  walking  arm  in  arm  just  behind  the 
duke  and  duchess. 

They  greeted  him  with  marked  cordiality,  and  congratu- 
lated him  upon  the  presence  of  mind  with  which  he  had  cap- 
tured the  judicial  arm-chair,  and  pressed  it  into  the  service  of 
his  aunt. 

"  My  cousins  of  Conti  are  pleased  to  jest,"  replied  Eugene. 
"  Such  praise  befits  not  him  who  removes  a  chair,  but  him 
who  unsettles  a  throne." 

"  BLave  you  any  such  ambitious  designs? "  asked  Prince 
Louis  de  Conti,  sportively. 

"Why  not?"  returned  his  brother,  Prince  de  la  Roche. 
"  It  would  not  be  the  first  time  that  such  a  feat  had  been  per- 
formed by  an  ecclesiastic.  Cardinal  Mazarin  removed  the 
throne  of  France  from  the  Louvre  to  his  bedchamber,  and 
what  Giulio  Mazarini  once  accomplished,  may  perchance  be 
repeated  by  his  kinsman,  the  abbe." 

"  Who  tells  you  that  I  am  a  priest? "  said  Eugene. 

"First—your  garb;  second,  the  will  of  your  family;  and 
third,  the  command  of  the  king." 

"  You  forget  the  will  of  the  individual  most  interested. 
But  of  that  anon— I  have  a  request  to  make  of  you  both." 

"It  is  granted  in  advance,"  exclaimed  the  brothers  with 
one  voice. 

"Thank  you,  gracious  kinsmen.  Will  you,  then,  accept 
a  seat  in  my  carriage,  and  drive  with  me  to  the  Pr6  aux 
Clercs?" 

"  With  pleasure.    Is  that  all? " 

"Almost all,"  replied  Eugene,  laughing.  "What  else  re- 
mains to  be  done,  must  be  performed  by  myself." 

"  Ah !  There  is  something  then  in  the  wind?  May  we  ask 
what  it  is? " 


100  PRINCE   EUGENE   AND   HIS  TIMES. 

"  You  will  witness  it,  and  that  is  all  I  require  of  you.  But 
here  is  my  carriage.     Be  so  kind  as  to  step  in." 

Conrad  stood  at  the  portiere,  and,  while  the  young  Princes 
de  Conti  were  entering  the  coach,  he  drew  from  under  his 
cloak  a  slender  parcel,  which  he  presented  to  his  lord. 

Eugene  received  it  with  a  smiling  acknowledgment.  "Is 
all  prepared?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,  your  highness.  Old  Philip  is  in  ecstasies,  and  the 
other  lackeys  are  like  a  pack  of  hounds  on  the  eve  of  a  fox- 
chase." 

"  They  shall  hear  the  fanfare  presently,"  returned  Eugene, 
following  his  cousins,  and  taking  his  seat  opposite  to  them. 

"  What  is  that? "  asked  the  Prince  de  Conti  pointing  to  the 
long,  thin  roll  of  white  paper  which  Eugene  held  in  his  hand. 

"  I  suspect  that  it  is  a  crucifix,  and  Eugene  is  going  to  en- 
trap us  into  a  confession,"  returned  De  la  Roche,  who  loved  to 
banter  his  cousin. 

"We  shall  see,"  replied  Eugene,  opening  the  paper,  and 
exhibiting  its  contents. 

"  A  whip ! "  exclaimed  De  Conti. 

"  Yes,  a  stout,  hunting-whip ! "  echoed  De  la  Roche.  "  Are 
we  to  go  on  a  fox-hunt,  dear  little  abbe? " 

"  We  are,  dear,  tall  prince,  and  we  shall  shortly  set  out." 

"  Things  begin  to  look  serious,"  observed  De  Conti.  with  a 
searching  glance  at  the  pale,  resolute  face  of  his  young  rela- 
tive. "  You  do  not  really  intend  to  chase  your  fox  in  presence 
of  the  king?" 

"  Yes,  I  do.  I  intend  to  prove  to  his  majesty  that  I  am  not 
altogether  unskilled  in  worldly  craft,  and,  as  regards  my  fox, 
I  intend  that  all  Paris  shall  witness  his  punishment. " 

"You  mean  that  you  have  been  insulted,  and  are  resolved 
to  disgrace  the  man  that  has  insulted  you  ? "  asked  De  la  Roche. 

"You  have  guessed,"  said  Eugene,  deliberately,  as  he  un- 
wound the  long  lash  of  the  whip,  and  tried  its  strength. 

"  But  Eugene,"  said  De  Conti,  earnestly,  "  remember  that 
such  degradation  is  only  to  be  wiped  out  with  blood,  and  that 
your  cloth  will  not  protect  you  from  the  consequences  of  so 
unpriestly  an  act." 

Eugene's  eyes  flashed  fire.     "  Hear  me,"  said  he.     "  If  my 


A  SKIRMISH.  101 

miserable  garb  could  prevent  me  from  vindicating  my  honor 
as  a  man,  I  would  rend  it  into  fragments,  and  cast  it  away  as 
the  livery  of  a  coward.  A  man's  dress  is  not  a  symbol  of  his 
soul ;  and  so  help  me,  God !  this  brown  cassock  shall  some  day 
be  transformed  into  the  panoply  of  a  soldier.  But  see  I  The 
carriage  stops,  and  we  are  about  to  taste  the  joys  ineffable  of 
seeing  the  King  of  France  drive  by." 

Two  outriders  in  the  royal  livery  were  now  seen  to  gallop 
down  the  allde,  as  a  signal  for  all  vehicles  whatsoever  to  drive 
aside  imtil  the  royal  equipages  had  passed  by. 

In  this  manner  Louis  was  accustomed  to  exhibit  himself 
to  the  admiring  gaze  of  his  subjects,  and  to  bestow  upon  them 
the  unspeakable  privilege  of  a  stray  beam  from  the  "  son  of 
France."  Never  had  he  shed  his  rays  upon  a  more  numerous 
or  more  magnificent  concourse  than  the  one  assembled  in  the 
Pre  aux  Clercs;  for  the  Duchess  de  Bouillon  had  just  entered 
with  her  cortege,  and  the  allee  was  lined  on  either  side  with 
splendid  equipages  and  their  outriders — pages,  equestrians,  and 
foot-passengers. 

His  majesty  was  gazing  around,  bowing  affably  to  the 
crowd,  when  he  perceived  the  Duchess  de  Bouillon,  and 
caught  her  eye.  Louis  waved  his  hand,  and  smiled ;  and  this 
royal  congratulation  filled  up  the  measure  of  Marianna's  con- 
tent. At  that  moment  his  face  was  illumined  by  an  expression 
of  genuine  feeling,  perhaps  a  reflection  of  the  light  of  a  love 
which  had  shone  upon  it  in  the  golden  morning  of  his 
youth. 

The  king's  coach  had  gone  by;  following  came  the  equi- 
pages of  the  royal  family,  and  the  princes  of  the  blood :  then — 

"  My  dear  cousin,"  said  Eugene,  "  be  on  your  guard,  and  if 
the  glasses  of  our  carriage- windows  begin  to  splinter,  close 
your  eyes,  for—" 

At  this  moment  the  coach  darted  suddenly  forward,  and 
took  its  place  behind  the  royal  cortege.  There  was  a  tremen- 
dous concussion  of  wheels  and  shafts,  a  crash  of  broken 
panes,  a  stamping  and  struggling  of  horses;  and,  above  all 
this  din,  the  frantic  oaths  of  the  coachmen  that  had  suffered 
from  the  collision. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  you  ill-mannered  churl  I    What  do 


102  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

you  mean  by  driving  in  front  of  my  horses? "  cried  a  loud  and 
angry  voice. 

"  What  do  you  mean  yourself,  clown !  "  was  the  furious  re- 
ply of  the  Jehu  addressed.  ''  My  horses  were  merely  advanc- 
ing to  take  the  position  which  belongs  to  them  of  right,  and 
how  dare  you  stop  the  way ! " 

"  Do  you  hear? "  asked  Eugene,  with  composure.  "  The 
drama  begins,  and  I  and  my  whip  will  shortly  appear  on  the 
stage.  It  was  my  trusty  old  Philip  who  began  the  fray,  and — 
it  has  already  gone  from  words  to  blows,  for  it  seems  to  me  I 
heard  something  like  a  box  on  the  ear — " 

"  You  did  indeed !  "  exclaimed  the  Prince  de  Conti ;  "  but 
what  on  earth  can  it  mean? " 

"  You  will  find  out  presently,"  replied  Eugene.  "  But  wait 
a  moment,  I  must  listen  for  my  cue — " 

"  Your  cue  will  have  to  be  a  thunder-clap,  if  you  are  to  hear 
it  above  all  this  racket,"  said  De  la  Roche,  slightly  lowering 
one  of  the  windows,  and  looking  cautiously  out.  "  Devil  take 
me !  but  it  is  a  veritable  pitched  battle.  These  knights  of  the 
hammer-cloth  are  dexterous  in  the  use  of  their  fists,  and  every 
one  of  your  servants,  Eugene,  are  engaged  in  the  fight ! " 

The  prince's  last  words  were  lost  to  his  listeners,  for  a  tre- 
mendous crash  drowned  his  voice,  and  something  fell  heavily 
to  the  ground. 

"  This  is  my  cue,"  cried  Eugene.  "  Come— I  am  about  to 
make  my  debut."  And  before  he  had  time  to  rise  from  his 
seat,  the  portiere  flew  open,  and  Conrad  hastily  took  down  th^ 
carriage-steps. 

" Is  his  coach  overturned?"  asked  the  prince. 

"  Yes,  your  highness,  and  he  is  inside.  His  footmen  tried 
to  get  him  out ;  but  with  the  help  of  some  of  our  friends  we 
fell  upon  them,  and  so  gave  them  plenty  of  occupation,  until 
your  highness  was  ready  to  appear." 

"Well — let  him  out,  Conrad.  I  am  ready  for  himl 
Come,"  added  he,  turning  to  his  cousins.  "  Come,  and  let  us 
survey  the  field." 

In  truth,  the  Pre  aux  Clercs,  at  this  moment,  resembled  a 
battle-ground.  Although  the  royal  cortege  had  long  gone  by, 
the  promenaders  were  too  curious  to  follow ;  they  all  remained 


A  SKIRMISH.  103 

to  see  the  end  of  tliis  turbulent  opening.  Every  one  had  \vit« 
nessed  old  Philip's  manoeuvre,  and  everybody  knew  that  the 
point  of  attack  was  the  carriage  of  Barbesieur  Louvois,  for  the 
footmen  of  the  Countess  de  Soissons  had  been  seen  to  seize  the 
horses'  reins,  and  force  them  out  of  the  way. 

And  now  the  coaches  were  all  emptied  of  their  occupants, 
who  crowded  around  the  spot  which  Eugene,  with  his  two 
cousins,  was  seen  approaching.  They  began  to  comprehend 
that  this  was  no  uproar  among  lackeys,  but  a  serious  misun- 
derstanding between  their  masters.  The  Dukes  de  Bouillon, 
de  Larochejaquelein,  and  de  Luynes,  the  Princes  de  Belmont 
and  Conde,  and  many  other  nobles  of  distinction,  came  forward 
and  followed  Prince  Eugene  to  the  field  of  action.  The  coach- 
man and  lackeys  of  Barbesieur  Louvois  were  trying  to  force 
the  footmen  of  the  Countess  de  Soissons  to  right  their  over- 
turned coach.  Old  Philip  cried  out  that  the  Princes  de  Ca- 
rignan  took  precedence  of  all  manner  of  Louvois  of  whatever 
generation,  and  that  he  would  not  stir.  His  companions  had 
applauded  his  spirit,  and  both  parties  having  found  allies 
among  the  other  retainers  of  the  nobles  on  the  ground,  the  bat- 
tle had  become  general,  and  the  number  of  fists  engaged  was 
formidable. 

The  timiult  was  at  its  height  when  the  clear,  commanding 
tones  of  Eugene's  voice  were  heard. 

"  Churl  and  villain ! "  exclaimed  he,  "  are  you  at  last  in  my 
power  ? " 

In  a  moment  every  eye  was  turned  upon  the  speaker,  who, 
just  as  Barbesieur  was  emerging  from  the  coach-window, 
seized  and  held^im  prisoner.  The  belligerent  lackeys  were  so 
astounded,  that  on  both  sides  the  upraised  fists  were  suspended, 
while  old  Philip,  taking  advantage  of  the  momentary  lull,  cried 
out  in  stentorian  tones: 

"  Armistice  for  the  servants  I  Their  lords  are  here  to  de- 
cide the  difficulty ! " 

Down  went  the  fists,  and  all  parties  gazed  in  breathless  si- 
lence at  the  pale,  young  David,  who  confronted  his  Goliath 
with  as  firm  reliance  on  the  justice  of  his  cause  as  did  the  shep- 
herd-warrior of  ancient  Israel.  Eugene  was  pale  and  col- 
lected, but  his  nostrils  were  distended,  and  his  eyes  were  aflame. 
8 


104  PRINCE  EUGEXE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

Earbesieur's  great  chest  heaved  with  fury,  as  he  felt  himself 
in  the  grasp  of  his  puny  antagonist,  and  turning  met  the 
glance  of  the  son  of  Olympia  de  Soissons. 

For  a  few  moments  no  word  was  spoken.  The  two  ene- 
mies exchanged  glances;  while  princes,  dukes,  counts,  and 
their  followers,  looked  on  with  breathless  interest  and  expec- 
tation. 

Barbesieur  now  made  one  supreme  effort  to  escape,  but  all 
in  vain.  With  one  thrust  of  his  muscular  arm,  Eugene  forced 
him  back  into  the  coach,  his  nether  limbs  within,  his  great 
trunk  without  the  window. 

"  Miserable  coward,"  said  the  prince,  "  who  to  escape  from 
the  dangers  of  a  fray  among  lackeys,  have  taken  refuge  in  the 
carriage  of  a  nobleman!  Monsieur  Louvois  will  assuredly 
have  you  punished  for  your  presumption ;  but  before  he  hears 
of  your  insolence  toward  him,  you  shall  be  chastised  for  the 
injuries  you  have  inflicted  upon  me." 

"  Dare  harm  one  hair  of  my  head,"  muttered  Barbesieur, 
between  his  teeth,  "and  your  life  shall  be  the  forfeit.  My 
father  will  avenge  me." 

'•So  be  it;  but  first,  let  me  avenge  my  mother,"  cried  Eu- 
gene, raising  his  whip  on  high. 

"  Eugene,  Eugene,"  exclaimed  the  Duke  de  Bouillon,  try- 
ing to  reach  his  kinsman  in  time  to  prevent  the  descending 
stroke,  "  you  are  mistaken.  This  gentleman  is  no  intruder 
in  the  coach  of  the  Louvois ;  it  is  Barbesieur  de  Louvois  him- 
self!" 

"  It  is  you  that  are  in  error,"  returned  Eugene,  holding  fast 
to  his  pi'isoner,  who  looked  like  some  great  monster  in  a  trap. 
"  This  is  not  Monsieur  Louvois ;  this  is  a  leader  of  mobs,  an 
instigator  of  riots.  He  is  the  knave  that  incited  the  people  of 
Paris  to  malign  my  mother,  and  to  stone  her  palace. — Here ! 
Philip !  Conrad !  Men  of  my  household,  do  you  not  recognize 
this  man  ? " 

"  Ay,  ay ! "  was  the  prompt  response,  "  he  is  the  very  man 
that  led  on  the  rabble." 

"  He  is.  The  captain  of  the  guard  allowed  him  to  escape, 
but  before  he  left  I  promised  him  a  horsewhipping,  and  I 
never  break  my  word. — You  are  a  villain,  for  you  have  de- 


A  SKIRMISH.  105 

famed  a  noble  lady. — Take  this !  You  are  a  liar,  for  you  have 
accused  her  of  crime. — Take  this!  You  are  a  poltroon,  for 
while  you  were  inciting  others  to  violent  deeds,  you  hid  your 
face,  and  denied  your  name. — Take  this  I " 

At  each  opprobrious  epithet,  the  lash  fell  heavily  upon  the 
shoulders  of  Barbesieur,  and  every  blow  was  answered  by  a 
cry  of  mingled  pain  and  rage.  The  multitude  looked  on  in 
silence,  almost  in  terror;  for  who  could  calculate  the  conse- 
quence of  such  an  indignity  offered  to  such  a  family ! 

"  And  now,"  said  Eugene,  throwing  the  whip  as  far  as  he 
could  send  it,  "  now  you  are  free!  My  mother's  defamer  has 
been  lashed  like  a  hound,  and  her  son's  heart  is  relieved  of  its 
load." 

So  saying,  he  turned  his  back,  and  joined  the  group,  among 
whom  his  cousins  were  awaiting  his  return. 

"  Which  of  you,  my  lords,"  said  he,  "  cried  out  that  I  was 
mistaken  in  the  identity  of  yonder  knave  ? " 

**  It  was  I,  Eugene,"  replied  the  Duke  de  Bouillon. 

"  But  you  see  your  error  now,  do  you  not,  uncle  ?  since  not 
only  I,  but  my  whole  household  proclaim  him  to  be  the  ring- 
leader of  that  riot,  which  forced  my  mother  into  exile." 

''  And  yet  he  is  assuredly  Barbesieur  Louvois,"  laughed  the 
Prince  de  Conti. 

"  Well — we  shall  see,"  was  the  reply.  "  He  has  disengaged 
himself  from  his  coach-window,  and  if  he  is  a  gentleman  he 
will  know  what  he  has  to  do." 

And  Eugene  returned  to  the  place  where  Barbesieur  was 
now  standing,  calling  out  to  his  friends  to  follow  him. 

"  Are  you  quite  sure,  my  lords,  that  this  individual  is  Mon- 
sieur Louvois  ? " 

They  answered  with  one  voice,  "We  arel"  while  all  eyes 
were  fixed  upon  the  tall  figure  which,  now  relaxed  and  bent 
with  shame,  resembled  the  stricken  frame  of  an  old  man; 
while  his  eyes  were  sedulously  cast  down,  that  they  might 
not  meet  the  glance  of  the  meanest  man  who  had  witnessed 
his  disgrace. 

"  I  am  still  incredulous,"  said  the  prince.  "  But  I  reaffirm 
that  this  is  the  brutal  ringleader  of  the  mob  that  attacked  my 
mother's  home,  and  since  I  am  ready  to  swear  upon  my  honor 


106  PKINCE   EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

that  it  is  he,  have  not  I  performed  my  duty  by  chastising 
him?" 

"  Yes,  Prince  of  Savoy,  if  you  are  sure  that  it  is  he,"  was  the 
unanimous  reply. 

"  I  can  prove  that  it  is  he.  When,  in  spite  of  my  warning, 
he  uplifted  his  right  arm  to  urge  the  rabble  to  a  new  attack 
on  the  palace,  I  aimed  a  bullet  at  his  elbow,  and  it  reached  its 
mark.  Now,  if  this  man  be  Monsieur  Louvois,  and  not  the 
knave  I  hold  him  to  be,  let  him  raise  his  right  arm,  and  so 
brand  me  as  a  liar." 

As  he  heard  this  challenge,  Barbesieur  trembled,  and  his 
face  paled  to  a  deadly  whiteness.  His  right  hand  was  buried 
in  the  breast  of  his  coat,  and  well  he  knew  that  every  eye  was 
riveted  upon  that  spot.  He  made  one  superlative  effort  to 
straighten  his  arm,  but  no  sooner  had  he  moved  it  than  he  ut- 
tered a  stifled  cry  of  pain,  and  the  wounded  limb  fell  helpless 
to  his  side. 

"  My  lords,"  said  Eugene,  inclining  his  head,  "  you  see  that 
I  am  no  calumniator.  This  is  the  churl  who  maligned  my 
mother's  name." 

"  And  I  am  Barbesieur  Louvois ! "  cried  the  churl,  gnashing 
his  teeth  with  rage.  "  I  am  Barbesieur  Louvois,  and  you  shall 
learn  it  to  your  sorrow,  for  my  father  will  avenge  the  insult 
you  have  offered  to  his  son." 

"  Your  father ! "  echoed  the  Prince  de  Conti.  "  But  your- 
self !  What  will  you  do  to  mend  your  bruised  honor  ?  A 
nobleman  knows  but  one  means  of  repairing  that." 

Barbesieur  blushed,  and  then  grew  very  pale.  "  You  see 
that  I  am  incapable  of  resorting  to  this  means,"  replied  he,  in 
much  confusion. 

"  Then  you  will  not  challenge  the  Prince  de  Carignan  ? " 

"  It  is  not  in  my  power  to  send  a  challenge.  My  right  arm 
is  useless  to  me." 

"Sir,"  said  De  Conti,  haughtily,  "there  are  blots  on  a 
man's  honor,  which  can  only  be  wiped  out  with  blood  ;  and 
when  the  right  hand  is  powerless,  a  nobleman  learns  to  use 
his  left." 

"  I  claim  the  privilege  of  waiting  until  I  shall  have  regained 
the  use  of  my  right  hand,"  returned  Barbesieur  with  a  sinister 


A  SKIRMISH.  107 

glance  at  De  Conti.  "  I  cannot  be  sure  of  my  aim  with  an 
unpractised  left  hand  ;  and  when  I  meet  this  miserable  mani- 
kin, I  wish  to  kill  him. — Eugene  of  Savoy,  you  have  offered 
me  a  deadly  affront ;  and  as  soon  as  my  wound  is  healed,  you 
shall  hear  from  me." 

"  Don't  give  yourself  the  trouble  of  sending  me  a  challenge,^ 
returned  Eugene  coolly,  "  for  I  will  not  accept  it." 

"  Not  accept  it !  "  echoed  Barbesieur,  unable  to  suppress  the 
gleam  of  satisfaction  that  would  shoot  across  his  countenance. 
"  Your  valor  then,  which  is  equal  to  put  opprobriima  upon  a 
defenceless  man,  wUl  not  bear  you  out  to  face  him  in  a  duel  ? 
What  say  these  gentlemen  here  present,  to  such  behavior  on 
the  part  of  a  prince  of  the  ducal  house  of  Savoy  ? " 

"  When  I  shall  have  spoken  a  few  more  words  to  you,  they 
can  decide.  You  have  so  outraged  my  mother,  the  Countess 
de  Soissons,  that  the  falsehood  with  which  you  have  befouled 
her  honored  name  can  never  be  recalled !  Not  content  with 
forcing  her,  by  your  persecutions,  into  exile,  your  emissaries 
preceded  her  to  every  point  whereat  she  sought  shelter,  and 
incited  the  populace  to  refuse  her  the  merest  necessaries  of 
life  !  For  wrongs  such  as  these,  nothing  could  repay  me  but 
the  infliction  of  a  degradation  both  public  and  complete.  I 
have  disgraced  you  ;  the  marks  of  my  lash  are  upon  your  back, 
and  think  you  that  I  shall  bestow  upon  you  one  drop  of  my 
blood  wherewith  to  heal  your  stripes  ?  No  1  I  fight  with  no 
man  whom  I  have  chastised  as  I  would  a  serf  ;  but  if  you  have 
a  friend  that  will  represent  you,  here  is  my  gauntlet :  let  him 
raise  it. — Grentlemen,  which  of  you  will  be  the  proxy  that  shall 
cleanse  the  sullied  honor  of  Barbesieur  Louvois  with  his 
blood  ? " 

"  Not  I,"  said  the  two  Princes  de  Conti,  simultaneously. 

"  Nor  I,"  "  Nor  I,  "  Nor  I  ! "  echoed  the  others. 

"  Nor  I,"  cried  the  Duke  de  la  Roche  Guyon,  stepping  for- 
ward so  as  to  be  conspicuous  and  generally  heard.  "  I  am  the 
son-in-law  of  Monsieur  Louvois,  and  unhappily  this  man  is 
the  brother  of  my  dear  and  honored  wife.  But  he  is  no  kins- 
man of  mine  ;  and  if  I  raise  this  glove,  it  is  to  return  it  to  the 
Prince  of  Savoy,  for  among  us  all  he  has  not  an  enemy.  He 
stands  in  the  midst  of  his  friends,  and  they  uphold  and  will 


108  PKINCE   EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

sustain  him,  let  the  consequences  of  this  day  be  what  they 
may." 

With  a  deep  inclination  of  the  head,  the  duke  returned  his 
glove  to  Eugene,  who,  greatly  affected,  could  scarcely  murmur 
his  thanks. 

With  glaring  eyes  and  scowl  of  hatred,  Barbesieur  had 
listened,  while  his  brother-in-law's  reyudiation  of  the  tie  that 
bound  them  to  one  another  had  deepened  and  widened  the 
gashes  of  his  disgrace.  With  muttered  words  of  revenge,  he 
mounted  the  horse  of  one  of  his  grooms,  and  galloped  swiftly 
out  of  sight  of  the  detested  Pre  aux  Clercs. 

"  Gentlemen,"  resumed  the  Duke  de  la  Roche  Guyon,  "  I 
am  about  to  seek  an  audience  with  Monsieur  Louvois,  to  relate 
to  him  the  events  that  have  just  transpired  ;  and  to  exact  of 
him  as  a  man  of  honor  that  he  will  seek  no  revenge  for  the 
affront  offered  to  his  son.  Which  of  you,  then,  will  accom- 
pany me  as  witness  ? " 

"  All,  all,"  cried  the  cavaliers,  with  enthusiasm.  "  We  sus- 
tain the  Prince  of  Savoy,  and  if  Minister  Louvois  injures  a 
hair  of  his  head,  he  shall  be  answerable  for  the  deed  to  every 
nobleman  in  France." 

"  And  you,  dear  Eugene,  whither  are  you  going  ? "  asked  De 
Conti,  putting  his  hand  on  his  cousin's  shoulder,  and  contem- 
plating him  with  looks  of  affectionate  admiration. 

"  I  ? "  said  Eugene,  softly.  "  I  shall  return  home  to  the 
hall  of  my  ancestors,  there  to  hang  this  gauntlet  below  my 
mother's  portrait.  Would  that  kneeling  I  could  lay  it  at  her 
feet ! " 

He  was  about  to  turn  away,  when  De  Conti  remarked,  "  I 
wonder  whether  Barbesieur  will  have  the  assurance  to  attend 
the  court-ball  to-night  ? " 

"  We  shall  see,"  replied  Eugene,  with  a  smile. 

"  We !  Why,  you  surely  will  not  present  yourself  before 
the  king,  until  you  find  out  in  what  way  his  majesty  intends 
to  view  your  attack  upon  the  favorite  son  of  his  favorite  min- 
ister ? " 

"  I  shall  go  to  the  ball  to  ascertain  the  sentiments  of  his 
majesty.  You  know  how  I  abhor  society,  and  how  awkward 
I  am  in  the  presence  of  the  beau  monde  ;  but  not  to  attend  this 


LOCVOIS'   DAUGHTER.  109 

ball  would  be  an  act  of  cowardice.    I  must  overcome  my  dis* 
inclination  to  such  assemblies,  and  learn  my  fate  to-night." 


CHAPTER  rV. 

LOUVOIS'  DAUGHTER. 

**  Are  you  really  in  earnest,  ma  toute  belle  ?  "  said  Eliza- 
beth-Charlotte of  Orleans.  "  Are  you  serious  when  you  re- 
linquish your  golden  hours  of  untrammelled  existence,  to  be- 
come my  maid  of  honor  ? " 

The  young  girl,  who  was  seated  on  a  tabouret  close  by,  lifted 
her  great  black  eyes,  and  for  a  moment  contemplated  the  large, 
good-natured  features  of  the  duchess  ;  then,  smiling  as  if  in 
satisfaction  at  the  survey,  she  replied  : 

''  Certainly,  if  your  highness  accords  me  your  g^racious  per- 
mission to  attach  myself  to  your  person." 

'*  And  does  your  father  approve  ?  Has  the  powerful  minis- 
ter of  his  majesty  no  objection  to  have  hia  daughter  enter  my 
service  ? " 

"  I  told  him  that  if  he  refused  I  would  take  the  veil,"  re- 
turned the  young  girl,  with  quiet  decision. 

The  duchess  leaned  forward,  and  contemplated  her  with 
interest.  "Take  the  veil!"  exclaimed  she.  "What  should 
such  a  pretty  creature  do  in  a  convent  ?  You  are  not—you 
cannot  be  in  earnest.  Let  those  transform  themselves  into 
nuns  who  have  sins  upon  their  consciences,  or  sorrow  within 
their  hearts :  you  can  have  had  no  greater  loss  to  mourn  than 
the  flight  of  a  canary,  or  the  death  of  a  greyhound." 

The  maiden's  eyes  glistened  with  tears.  "  Your  highness,  I 
have  lost  a  mother." 

"  Oh,  how  unfeeling  of  me  to  have  forgotten  it  I "  exclaimed 
the  duchess.  "  But,  in  good  sooth,  this  heartless  court-life  cor- 
rupts us  all ;  we  are  so  unaccustomed  to  genuine  feeling,  that 
we  forget  its  existence  on  earth.  Dear  child,  forgive  me ;  I 
am  thoughtless,  but  not  cruet  Give  me  your  hand  and  let  us 
be  friends." 


110  PRINCE   EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

The  girl  pressed  a  fervent  kiss  upon  the  hand  that  was  out« 
stretched  to  meet  hers.  "  Oh ! "  cried  she,  feelingly,  "  my 
grandmother  was  right  when  she  told  me  that  you  were 
the  best  and  noblest  lady  that  ever  graced  the  court  of 
France." 

"  Did  your  grandmother  say  that,  love  ? "  asked  the  duchess. 
"  I  remember  her  as  one  of  the  most  delightful  persons  I  ever 
met.  She  was  a  spirited,  intelligent,  and  pure-minded  woman ; 
and  many  are  the  pleasant  hours  we  have  passed  together.  I 
was  really  grieved  when  the  Marquise  de  Bonaletta  disappeared 
from  court,  and  went  into  retirement." 

"  She  left  the  court  for  love  of  my  mother,  whose  marriage 
was  a  most  unhappy  one  ;  and  who,  although  she  had  much 
strength  of  mind,  had  not  enough  to  cope  with  the  malignity 
of  the  enemies  that  were  of  her  own  household." 

"  Your  father  was  twice  married,  was  he  not  ?  " 

"  Yes,  your  highness  ;  and,  by  his  first  marriage,  had  a  son 
and  a  daughter.  With  the  latter,  the  present  Duchess  de  la 
Roche  Guyon,  my  mother  lived  in  perfect  harmony,  but  her 
step-son,  Barbesieur,  hated  her,  and  finally  caused  her  to  quit 
her  husband's  house,  and  take  refuge  with  her  mother,  the 
Marchioness  de  Bonaletta." 

"I  remember,"  returned  the  duchess.  "Both  ladies  left 
Paris  at  the  same  time,  and  nothing  was  ever  heard  of  them 
afterward.     They  retired  to  the  country,  did  they  not  ? " 

"Yes,  your  highness.  My  grandmother  had  inherited  a 
handsome  estate  from  her  husband ;  and  thither  they  took  ref- 
uore  from  the  persecution  of  Barbesieur — my  brother,  and  yet 
rne  enemy  who,  before  I  had  attained  my  sixth  year,  had 
driven  me  to  a  state  of  orphanage,  by  alienating  from  me  my 
father's  afPection.  Well — I  scarcely  missed  his  protection,  for 
dear  mother's  love  filled  up  the  measure  of  my  heart's  cravings 
for  sympathy,  and  her  care  supplied  every  requirement  of  my 
mind.  But  my  happiness  was  short-lived  as  a  dream;  my 
mother's  health  had  been  sorely  shattered  by  her  many  trials, 
and  I  was  not  yet  fourteen  when  it  pleased  God  to  take  her  to 
Himself." 

The  duchess  listened  with  tender  sympathy.  "  I  see,  dear 
child,"  said  she,  "  that  you  are  a  loving  daughter,  for  two 


LOUVOIS*  DAUGHTER.  HI 

years  have  gone  by  since  your  misfortune,  and  yet  your  eyes 
are  dim  with  tears." 

"  Ah,  your  highness,  time  has  increased,  not  lessened,  my 
sorrow.  The  longer  the  separation,  the  harder  it  Is  to  bear, 
and  I  know  not  from  what  source  consolation  is  to  flow.  For 
a  time,  however,  I  had  the  sympathy  of  my  grandmother  to 
soothe  my  grief.  We  visited  her  grave,  we  spoke  of  her  to- 
gether. For  love  of  her  who  was  so  eager  for  my  improve- 
ment, I  applied  myself  heartily  to  my  studies.  Hoping,  be- 
lieving that  she  looked  down  from  heaven,  upon  her  child,  1 
strove  to  prove  my  love  by  cultivating  to  their  utmost  the 
po Wei's  which  God  had  bestowed  upon  me." 

"  And  no  doubt  you  have  become  such  a  learned  little  lady, 
that  you  will  be  quite  formidable  to  such  triflers  as  we,"  said 
the  duchess,  with  a  smile. 

"  No,  indeed,  dear  lady.  I  am  slightly  proficient  in  music 
and  painting — these  are  my  only  accomplishments." 

"  Ah,  you  love  music  ?  How  it  delights  me  to  know  this, 
for  I,  too,  am  passionately  fond  of  it  I  When  I  was  a  maiden 
in  Heidelberg,  I  used  to  roam  about  the  woods,  singing  in  con- 
cert with  the  larks  and  nightingales  ;  and  my  deceased  father, 
the  Elector  Palatine,  finally  declared  that  I  was  no  Grcmian 
princess,  but  a  metamorphosed  lark,  whom  he  constantly  ex- 
pected to  see  spread  out  her  wings,  and  depart  for  Bird-land. 
Sometimes,  when  my  reveries  are  mournful,  I  could  almost 
wish  myself  a  lark,  hovering  over  the  fields  that  lie  at  the  foot 
of  our  dear  castle  at  Heidelberg,  or  nestling  among  its  towers, 
wherein  I  have  passed  so  many  joyous  hours.  Now,  if  I  were 
a  Hindoo,  I  would  look  forward  with  pleasure  to  the  day  of 
my  transmigration ;  for  as  a  lark,  I  would  fly  to  my  dear  na- 
tive home,  and  sing  the  old  air  of  which  my  father  was  so 
fond: 

*  The  sky  that  bends  over  the  Neckar  is  fair. 
And  its  waters  are  kissed  by  the  soft  summer  air*—** 

As  the  duchess  attempted  to  hum  this  familiar  strain,  her 
voice  grew  faint,  and  her  eyes  filled  with  tears.  She  dashed 
them  hastily  away. 

**  My  dear  child,"  said  she,  after  a  pause,  **  I  know  not  why 


112  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

your  sweet  companionship  should  have  brought  to  mind  vis- 
ions of  home  and  happiness  that  are  long  since  buried  in  the 
grave  of  the  past.  I  seldom  indulge  in  retrospection,  Laura  ; 
it  unfits  me  for  endurance  of  the  heartless  life  we  lead  in 
Paris.  But  sometimes,  when  we  are  alone,  you  will  let  me 
live  over  these  sunny  hours,  and—" 

Again  her  voice  faltered,  and  she  buried  her  face  in  her 
hands,  while  Laura  looked  on  wuth  sympathetic  tears. 

There  was  a  silence  of  several  moments,  at  the  end  of  which 
the  duchess  gave  a  short  sigh,  and  looked  up.  Her  face  was 
quite  composed,  and,  smiling  affectionately  upon  her  young 
companion,  she  resumed  their  conversation. 

"  And  now,  dear  child,  go  on  with  what  you  were  relating 
to  me.  My  little  episode  of  weakness  is  ended,  and  I  listen  to 
your  artless  narration  with  genuine  pleapure.  You  lived  with 
your  grandmother  on  her  estate,  and  you  were  tenderly  at- 
tached to  each  other  ?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed,  I  loved  my  grandmother  to  adoration.  My 
lonely  heart  had  concentrated  all  its  love  upon  her  who  loved 
me  not  only  for  my  own,  but  for  my  mother's  sake ;  and  we 
were  beginning  to  find  happiness  in  our  mutual  affection,  when 
death  again  snatched  from  me  my  last  stay,  my  only  friend. 
My  dear  grandmother  would  have  gone  joyfully,  but  for  the 
sake  of  the  poor  child  she  was  leaving  behind.  When  she 
felt  her  end  approaching,  she  sent  for  my  father,  who  obeyed 
the  summons  at  once.  He  arrived  in  time  to  receive  her  last 
injunctions.  They  had  a  long  private  interview,  at  the  end  of 
which  I  was  called  in,  and  formally  delivered  over  to  the 
guardianship  of  my  father,  who  promised  me  his  love  and  pro- 
tection. But  my  grandmother  added  these  words,  which  I 
have  carefully  treasured  in  my  memory  : 

"  *  If  you  should  ever  need  advice  or  countenance  from  a 
woman,  go  to  the  Duchess  of  Orleans.  She  is  a  virtuous  and 
benevolent  princess,  and  will  befriend  you.  With  her  for  a 
protectress,  you  will  be  as  safe  from  harm  as  in  the  sheltering 
arms  of  your  own  mother.' " 

The  duchess  extended  her  hand.  "I  thank  your  grand- 
mother, dear  child,  for  her  confidence  in  my  benevolence :  if  I 
have  never  deserved  it  before,  I  will  earn  it  now ;  and  be  as- 


LOUVOIS'  DAUGHTER.  113 

Bured  that  in  me  you  will  find  a  loving  protectress.  But  why 
should  you  need  any  influence  of  mine  ?  Your  father  is  the 
most  powerful  subject  at  court,  and  the  whole  world  will  be  at 
your  feet.  Young,  handsome,  and  rich,  every  nobleman  in 
France  will  be  your  suitor." 

"  But  I  can  never  marry  without  love,"  replied  Laura,  en- 
thusiastically. "  Love  alone  could  reconcile  me  to  the  exigen- 
cies of  married  life,  and  /  must  choose  the  man  that  is  to  rule 
over  my  destiny.  Let  me  be  frank,  and  confess  to  your  high- 
ness why  I  desire  to  place  myself  under  your  protection.  My 
father  is  trying  to  force  me  into  a  marriage  with  the  Marquis 
de  Strozzi,  the  Venetian  envoy.  He  is  young,  handsome,  rich, 
and  may  perhaps  become  Doge  of  Venice.  He  is  all  this— but 
what  are  his  recommendations  to  me?  I  do  not  love  him! 
More  than  that,  he  is  the  friend  of  Barbesieur,  and  therefore  I 
dislike  him.  The  match,  too,  is  of  Barbesieur's  making  :  he  it 
was  that  influenced  my  father  to  consent  to  it.  I  have  already 
declared  that,  sooner  than  marry  the  marquis,  I  will  take  the 
veil.  But  my  vocation  is  not  for  the  cloister,  and  therefore  I 
implore  your  highness's  protection.  I  beseech  you,  give  me 
the  place  made  vacant  by  the  marriage  of  your  maid  of  honor, 
and  save  me  from  a  life  of  misery.  In  my  father's  house  I  am 
solitary  and  unloved :  but  even  loneliness  of  heart  I  could  en- 
dure, if  I  were  permitted  to  endure  it  in  peace  !  But  a  com- 
pulsory marriage  is  worse  to  me  than  death  1  Save  me,  dear 
lady,  and  I  will  be  the  humblest  and  most  obedient  of  your 
subjects ! " 

The  duchess  smilingly  shook  her  head.  "  I  am  afraid," 
said  she,  "  that  the  daughter  of  Louvois  will  not  be  permitted 
to  accept  the  office  you  ask,  my  child.  Do  you  know  that  my 
maids  of  honor  are  paid  for  their  services  ? " 

"  Yes,  your  highness  ;  but  I  crave  permission  to  serve  you 
without  salary.  I  am  rich,  and,  as  regards  fortune,  independ- 
ent of  my  father.  On  condition  that  I  assume  her  name,  my 
grandmother  left  me  the  whole  of  her  vast  estates.  I  have 
wealth,  then,  more  than  enough  to  gratify  my  wildest  caprices; 
—but  no  mother— no  friend.  Oh,  take  pity  on  me,  and  be- 
friend a  poor  orphan !  ** 

"  A  poor  orphan  I "  laughed  the  duchess.    "  A  rich  heireii^ 


114:  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

you  mean — a  marchioness  of  fifteen  years,  who  is  possessed 
of  sufficient  character  to  dispute  the  mandates  of  the  powerful 
minister  of  the  King  of  France  !  But  your  resolute  bearing 
pleases  me.  You  are  not  the  puppet  of  circumstances,  nor  is 
your  heart  hardened  by  ambition.  It  follows  whither  youth- 
ful enthusiasm  beckons,  and  scorns  the  rein  of  worldly  re- 
straint. I  like  your  spirit,  Laura,  and  I  love  you.  You  may 
count  upon  me,  therefore,  as  far  as  it  lies  in  my  power  to  serve 
you.  But  understand  that  I  am  not  a  favorite  at  court.  The 
king  honors  me  occasionally  with  his  notice  ;  but  the  two 
great  magnates,  the  '  powers  that  be,'  De  Montespan,  and  her 
rival  De  Maintenon,  both  dislike  me.  They  have  reason  to  do 
sp,  for  I  do  not  love  them.  I  am  at  heart  an  honest  German 
woman,  and  have  no  taste  for  gilded  corruption.  I  honor  and 
love  my  brother-in-law,  whom  God  preserve  and  bless  !  But 
if  the  Lord  would  take  these  two  marchionesses  to  Himself,  or 
send  them  below,  to  regions  more  congenial  to  their  tastes 
than  heaven,  I  assure  you  that  I  would  not  die  of  grief  at 
their  loss.  De  Montespan  is  merely  a  dissolute  woman,  who 
abandoned  her  husband  and  children  to  become  the  mistress 
of  a  king.  But  that  De  Maintenon !  Her  hypocrisy  is  enough 
to  turn  one's  stomach.  She  not  only  supplants  her  benefac- 
tress in  the  affections  of  her  lover,  but  dresses  up  her  sins  in 
the  garments  of  a  virtue,  and  affects  piety !  She  teaches  his 
majesty  to  sin  and  pray,  and  pray  and  sin,  hoping  to  com- 
pound with  Heaven  for  adultery,  by  sanctimony :  perchance 
expecting,  as  brokerage  for  her  king's  regenerated  soul,  an 
earthly  reward  in  the  shape  of  a  mantle  edged  with  ermine  ! 
When  I  think  of  that  Iscariot  in  petticoats,  I  am  ready  to 
burst  with  indignation ! " 

The  duchess  grew  so  excited  that  she  had  to  wipe  her  face 
with  her  embroidered  handkerchief.  After  cooling  herself  for 
a  few  moments,  she  resumed  : 

"  Yes  !  and  to  think  that  the  princes  of  the  blood  and  the 
queen  herself,  are  obsequious  to  these  two  lemans  of  a  king  ! 
May  I  freeze  in  the  cold  blast  of  royal  disfavor,  before  I  de- 
grade my  rank  and  womanhood  by  such  servility!  And 
mark  this  well,  little  marchioness,  if  you  take  service  with  me. 
Who  goes  to  court  with  me,  pays  no  homage  to  the  mistresses 


LOUVOIS'  DAUGHTER.  115 

of  the  king.— But  why  do  you  kneel,  my  child  ?    What  means 
this  humility  ? " 

"  How  otherwise  could  I  give  expression  to  my  reverence, 
my  admiration,  my  love  ?  "  exclaimed  Laura,  her  countenance 
beaming  with  beautiful  enthusiasm.  "And  how  otherwise 
could  I  thank  my  God  that  so  noble,  so  brave,  so  incompa- 
rable a  woman  is  my  protectress  !  Let  me  kiss  this  honored 
hand  that  has  never  been  contaminated  by  the  touch  of  cor- 
ruption ! " 

*'You  are  a  sweet  enthusiast,"  said  Elizabeth-Charlotte, 
bending  down  and  kissing  Laura's  brow.  "  In  your  eye  there 
beams  a  light  that  reveals  to  me  a  kindred  spirit.  Beautiful, 
young,  hopeful  though  you  be  (and  I  am  none  of  these),  there 
is  a  congeniality  of  soul  between  us  that  leaps  over  all  dis- 
parity, and  proclaims  us  to  be  friends.  Come,  dear  child,  to 
my  heart." 

With  a  cry  of  joy,  Laura  threw  herself  into  the  arms  of  the 
duchess,  who  held  her  fast,  and  kissed  her  o'er  and  o'er. 

"  Sweet  child,"  exclaimed  she,  "  your  spontaneous  love  is 
like  a  flower  springing  from  the  hideous  gaps  of  a  grave.  I 
greet  it  as  a  gift  of  God,  and  it  shall  reanimate  within  me  hap- 
piness and  hope.  You  are  but  fifteen,  Laura,  and  I  am  a  ma- 
ture woman  of  thirty ;  but  my  heart  is  as  strong  to  love  as 
yours:  for  many  years  it  has  pined  under  clouds  of  neglect, 
but  the  sun  of  your  sympathy  has  shone  upon  it,  and,  warmed 
by  its  kindly  beams,  it  will  revive  and  bloom." 

*'  And  oh  how  I  shall  love  you  in  return  I "  cried  the  happy 
girL  "  As  a  lother  whom  I  trust  and  revere — as  a  sister  to 
whom  I  may  co  ifide  my  girlish  secrets — as  a  guardian  angel 
whose  blessing  I  shall  implore.  But  in  the  world,  and  when 
I  bear  your  train,  I  will  forget  that  I  am  aught  but  the  low- 
liest handmaiden  of  her  royal  highness,  Elizabeth-Charlotte, 
Duchess  of  Orleans." 

"  And  when  we  are  alone  and  without  witnesses,  we  will 
speak  of  those  we  have  loved  ;  and  I,  alas  I  of  some  whom  I 
have  not  loved  ;  for,  Laura,  my  marriage  was  a  compulsory 
one.  The  altar  on  which  I  pledged  my  faith  was  one  of  sac- 
rifice ;  and  I,  the  bride,  the  lamb  that  was  immolated  for  my 
oountry^s  good.    Ah !  many  tears  have  I  shed  since  I  was  Duch* 


116  PRINCE   EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

ess  of  Orleans  ;  but  your  tender  hand  shall  wipe  them  away, 
and  in  your  sweet  society  I  shall  grow  joyous  again.  We  will 
sing  the  ditties  of  my  fatherland  ;  and,  provided  no  one  is 
within  hearing,  I  will  teach  you  our  German  dances,  which, 
because  of  the  corruption  that  dwells  within  their  hearts. 
these  French  people  stigmatize  as  voluptuous.  With  such  a 
birdling  as  you  to  carol  around  me,  the  lark  that  once  dwelt 
in  my  heart,  will  find  its  voice  again,  and  awake  to  sing  a 
hymn  of  thankfulness  to  God,  who  has  enriched  me  with  the 
blessing  of  your  love." 

"  And  I,  dear  lady,  will  try  to  deserve  the  happiness  He  has 
vouchsafed  to  me,  by  loving  all  His  creatures — even  Barbe- 
sieur  himself. " 

"  Ah !  Barbesieur !  "  echoed  the  duchess,  thoughtfully.  "  I 
doubt  whether  he  or  your  father  will  consent  to  give  you  to 
me,  Laura.  Nobody  knows  better  than  Monsieur  Louvois, 
how  unimportant  a  personage  at  court  is  the  Duchess  of  Or- 
leans." 

"  He  must  give  me  to  you  or  to  the  cloister,"  exclaimed 
Laura,  quickly.  "  And  not  only  relinquish  me,  which  would 
be  no  great  loss,  but  my  worldly  gooc  j,  which  are  an  impor- 
tant item  in  his  estimation.  I  am  ab'  olute  mistress  of  my  for- 
tune, and  nobody  but  the  Chevalier  Lankey  has  a  word  to  say 
in  the  matter.  As  for  him — dear  old  fellow !  he  is  the  tender- 
est  guardian  that  ever  pretended  to  have  authority  over  an 
heiress  ;  and  he  loves  me  so  sincerely,  that  if  I  were  to  come 
and  say  that,  to  save  me  from  misfortune,  he  must  stab  me  to 
the  heart,  he  would  do  my  bidding,  and  forthwith  die  of  grief 
for  the  act." 

"  I  can  almost  believe  you,  absurd  child  ;  for  you  are  an  en- 
chantress, and  therefore  irresistible." 

"  Yes — I  am  irresistible,"  replied  Laura,  throwing  her  arms 
around  the  duchess's  neck,  "  and  I  vow  and  declare  that  it  is 
my  good  pleasure  to  live  forever  in  the  sunshine  of  your  high- 
ness's  presence  ;  so  I  consider  myself  as  accepted  and  in- 
stalled." 

"  With  all  my  heart,  if  your  family  be  propitious  !  And 
with  a  view  to  reconciling  them,  I  must  create  an  office  for  you 
of  more  dignity  than  that  of  a  mere  maid  of  honor.     You 


LOUVOIS'  DAUGHTER.  II7 

shall  be  lady  of  the  bedchamber  ;  and  I  will  announce  your 
appointment  with  all  due  formality  to  the  king,  the  court,  and 
my  own  household.  You  retain  the  title  of  maid  of  honor, 
because  that  gives  you  the  right  to  remain  constantly  attached 
to  my  person ;  but,  except  on  days  of  extraordinary  ceremony, 
you  shall  be  disi)ensed  with  the  duty  of  following  me  as  train- 
bearer." 

*'  I  shall  be  dispensed  with  no  such  thing ! "  cried  Laura, 
playfully  ;  "  I  do  not  intend  to  delegate  my  duties  to  anybody; 
above  all,  a  duty  which  to  me  will  be  a  privilege." 

"  We  shall  see,  you  self-willed  girl,"  was  the  reply,  "  for  I 
shall  forbid  you  in  presence  of  my  household,  and,  for  deco- 
rum's sake,  you  will  be  forced  to  obey.  Neither  shall  you  in- 
habit the  third  story  of  the  main  palace,  in  common  witJi  the 
other  maids  of  honor  ;  you  shall  occupy  the  pretty  pavilion 
in  the  garden,  and  have  an  independent  household  as  befits 
your  rank  and  fortune.  Now,  as  regards  your  table.  You 
know  that,  by  the  laws  of  French  etiquette,  nobody  is  permit- 
ted to  sit  at  table  with  the  princes  or  princesses  of  the  blood  ; 
and  my  lord,  the  duke,  is  so  stringent  in  his  observance  of 
these  laws,  that  he  would  faint  were  he  to  witness  a  breach  of 
them.  When  his  royal  highness,  then,  dines  with  me,  you 
will  be  served  in  the  pavilion,  and  are  at  liberty  to  invite 
whom  you  please  to  share  your  repasts ;  but  happily,  I  am 
honored  with  his  presence  but  twice  a  week  ;  and  on  adl  other 
days,  we  shall  breakfast  and  dine  together.  The  duke  spends 
two  days  out  hunting,  and  the  other  three  with  his  mistress, 
Madame  de  Rulhi^res.  You  look  surprised  to  hear  me  men- 
tion this  so  coolly.  Time  was,  when  I  felt  humiliated  to  know 
that  mine  were  not  the  only  children  who  Idssed  my  husband, 
and  called  him  father.  The  caresses  he  bestowed  upon  his 
mistress,  I  never  grudged.  She  robbed  me  of  nothing  when 
she  accepted  them.  As  the  wife  of  a  man  whom  I  did  not 
love,  I  could  aspire  to  none  of  the  joys  of  wedded  life  ;  I  have 
contented  myself  with  fulfilling  its  duties,  and  so  conducting 
myself  that  I  need  never  be  ashamed  to  look  my  dear  children 
in  the  face.  But  enough  of  this  :  let  us  return  to  you.  You 
will  keep  your  own  carriage,  use  your  own  liveries,  and  be 
sole  mistress  of  your  house  and  home,  into  which  the  DucheM 


118  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

of  Orleans  shall  snot  enter  unannounced.  You  will  find  It 
larger  than  it  looks  to  be.  It  contains  a  parlor,  sitting  and 
dining  rooms,  a  library  opening  on  the  garden  ;  a  bed-room, 
three  chambers  for  servants,  and  two  anterooms,  large  enough 
to  accommodate  your  worshippers  while  they  await  admission 
to  your  presence.  This  is  all  I  have  to  offer  my  lady  of  the 
bedchamber.     May  I  hope  that  it  is  agreeable  ? " 

"  Agreeable  !  "  exclaimed  Laura,  affectionately.  "  It  will 
place  me  on  a  pinnacle  of  happiness.  And  now  that  I  have 
heard  of  all  the  favors,  the  privileges,  and  the  honors  that  are 
to  accrue  to  me  from  my  residence  in  the  pavilion,  will  my 
gracious  mistress  deign  to  instruct  me  as  to  the  duties  I  am  to 
perform,  in  return  for  her  bounty  ? " 

"  Wilful  creature,  have  I  not  already  told  you  ?  On  occa- 
sions of  state  you  are  to  be  one  of  my  trainbearers  ;  and  when 
his  majesty  comes  to  visit  me,  you  station  yourself  at  my  side. 
Then  you  are  to  drive  out  with  me  daily,  and  as  you  alone 
will  be  with  me  in  the  carriage,  we  can  have  many  a  pleasant 
chat,  while  the  maids  of  honor  come  behind.  And  we  must 
be  discreet,  or  they  may  inform  monsieur  of  the  preference 
which  madame  has  for  her  lady  of  the  bedchamber  ;  and  then, 
Heaven  knows  what  the  duke  might  do  to  us  !  Let  us  hope 
that  he  would  not  poison  you,  as  he  did  my  poor  little  Italian 
greyhound,  a  few  weeks  ago.  He  hated  the  dog  because  I 
loved  it,  and  because  it  was  a  present  to  me  from  my  dear 
brother  Carl.  So  be  wary  and  prudent,  Laura  :  these  maids 
of  honor  have  sharp  ears,  and  it  is  not  safe  to  talk  when  they 
are  waiting  in  the  anteroom,  for  some  are  in  the  pay  of  De 
Maintenon,  and  you  will  not  have  been  here  many  days  before 
one  of  them  is  sold  to  your  father.  I  can  scarcely  believe  in 
the  reality  of  my  new  acquisition,  for  much  as  I  regret  to  tell 
you  so,  Laura,  you  cannot  enter  my  service  until  Monsieur 
Louvois  comes  hither  to  make  the  request  himself.  Otherwise, 
monsieur  and  Madame  de  Maintenon  would  spread  it  about, 
that  I  had  forcibly  abducted  the  Marchioness  de  Bonaletta,  and 
torn  her  from  her  loving  father's  arms." 

"  My  father  will  be  here  to-day  to  comply  with  all  the 
formalities  that  must  precede  my  installation,"  replied 
Laura.      "And,   if  your  highness  will  admit   him,   I  shall 


THE  COURT-BALL.  119 

have  the  happiness  of  being  in  your  train  at  the  court-ball  to- 
night." 

"  Of  course  I  must  admit  him,  since  you  will  it,  my  queen 
of  hearts.  By  what  magic  is  it  that  you  have  won  my  love  so 
completely  to-day,  Laura  ? " 

'*  By  the  magic  touch  of  my  own  heart  that  loves  you  so 
weU,  dear  lady — so  well,  that  I  ask  no  other  boon  of  Heaven 
but  that  of  deserving  and  returning  your  affection." 

'*  Until  some  lover  comes  between  us,  and  robs  me  of  my 
treasure,"  said  the  duchess,  with  a  smile.  "  Have  you  seen  the 
brigand  yet  ?    Do  you  know  him  ? " 

Laura  laughed.  ''  He  is  a  myth — I  have  no  faith  in  his  ex- 
istence," said  she. 

"  He  exists,  nevertheless,  my  child,  and  will  make  his  ap- 
pearance before  long ;  for  you  are  destined  to  have  many 
suitors." 

''  But  none  that  approaches  my  ideal  of  manhood.  Where 
shall  I  find  this  hero  of  my  dreams  ? — not  at  the  court  of 
France,  your  highness.  But— should  he  ever  come  out  of  the 
clouds,  brave,  noble,  wise,  as  I  have  pictured  him,  then,  oh 
then !  I  should  follow  the  destiny  of  woman  ;  leaving  all 
other  beings,  even  my  gracious  mistress  herself,  to  cleave  unto 
him,  and  merge  my  soul  in  his  !  Were  I  to  love,  the  world 
itself  would  recede  from  view,  leaving  all  space  filled  with 
the  image  of  the  man  I  loved  !  Better  he  should  never  come 
down  from  the  moon— for,  if  he  comes,  I  am  lost  I " 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  COURT-BALL. 

The  magnificent  halls  of  the  Louvre  were  open  to  receive 
the  guests  of  his  majesty  Louis  XTV.  Balls  were  "  few  and 
far  between"  at  the  French  court,  and  the  festivities  of  the 
evening  were  significant,  as  betokening  triumph  to  De  Monte- 
span  and  mortification  to  De  Maintenon. 

For  Louis,  like  Mohammed's  coffin,  was  suspended  between 
9 


120  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

the  heaven  of  De  Mainteuon's  pious  attractions,  and  the  earth 
of  De  Montespan's  carnal  fascinations.  Neither  the  exhorta- 
tions of  Pere  la  Chaise,  nor  the  affectionate  zeal  of  De  Main- 
tenon,  had  as  yet  overthrown  the  power  of  De  Montespan  ;  and 
more  than  once,  when  wearied  with  the  solemn  dulness  of  the 
former,  had  he  sought  refuge  from  drowsiness  in  the  rollick- 
ing companionship  of  the  latter,  who,  if  she  was  a  sinner,  wore 
the  livery  of  her  master,  and  sinned  honestly  and  above-hoard. 
De  Montespan  always  profited  by  these  little  intervals  of  ten- 
derness, to  obtain  some  signal  favor  from  Louis,  which  had 
the  effect  of  perplexing  the  court,  and  rendering  it  a  doubtful 
matter  to  those  who  would  fain  have  gone  over  to  the  vic- 
torious party,  which  of  his  two  mistresses  was  truly  sovereign 
of  the  king's  unstable  affections. 

Such  a  concession  was  this  ball,  wrung  from  Louis,  first  by 
coaxing,  and  finally  by  pouting  and  tears.  De  Montespan  was 
elated,  for  it  was  a  double  triumph ;  it  was  given  at  her  re- 
quest, and  was  to  take  place  on  her  birthday. 

And  De  Maintenon,  of  course,  was  proportionally  crest- 
fallen. But,  after  shedding  just  as  many  tears  as  she  deemed 
appropriate,  Scarron's  widow  was  clever  enough  to  understand 
that  wisdom  lay  in  acquiescence.  She  wiped  her  eyes,  and 
suffered  herself  to  be  caressed  into  a  good-humor ;  was  more 
amiable,  more  sprightly,  more  fascinating  than  ever,  with  not 
a  trace  of  disappointment  in  her  looks,  save  that  which  lay  in 
the  unusual  paleness  of  her  face. 

Louis  was  so  touched  by  her  magnanimity,  that  he  abso- 
lutely begged  her  pardon  ;  and  she  was  so  overcome  by  the 
condescension  of  his  majesty,  that  she  asked  permission  to  be 
present  at  the  ball. 

"  He  was  only  too  happy ! "  that  is  to  say,  he  did  his  best 
to  conceal  his  consternation  at  the  unheard-of  proposition. 
Sainte  Maintenon  at  a  ball!  What  would  she  do  in  so  un- 
righteous a  place  ?  And  worse — still  worse  :  what  would  his 
other  charmer  say  when  she  heard  of  it  ?  What  outbreak  of 
indignation  might  not  be  expected,  when  De  Montespan  was 
told  that  her  ex-governess  was  to  be  present  at  a  ball  given  in 
her  own  honor  ?  Between  his  saint  and  his  sinner,  Louis  was 
sorely  perplexed.    But  he  might  have  spared  himself  all  un- 


THE  COURT-BALL.  121 

easiness.  De  Montespan  was  not  in  the  least  ruffled  at  the 
tidings  ;  she  rather  enjoyed  the  idea  of  setting  off  her  own 
splendor  against  the  shabbiness  of  her  rival. 

But  the  court  was  in  a  state  of  anxious  excitement  on  the 
subject.  Everybody  was  dying  of  curiosity  to  see  the  meeting 
of  the  rivals,  and  the  effect  that  was  to  be  produced  by  theii 
presence  on  the  poor  deserted  queen. 

To  which  of  the  favorites  will  the  king  throw  his  handker- 
chief ?  With  which  of  the  two  will  he  converse  most  ?  Will 
he  feel  at  ease  as  he  treads  the  minuet  under  the  eyes  of  the 
devotee  ?  Or  will  he  venture  to  recognize  her  in  presence  of 
the  courtesan  ? 

Such  were  the  questions  that  were  continually  asked,  but 
never  answered  by  the  elegant  crowd  which  thronged  the  halls 
of  the  palace  that  evening.  The  rencontre  of  Eugene  and 
Barbesieur  was  for  the  moment  forgotten.  It  was  not  likely 
that  either  one  of  the  disputants  would  venture  to  appear  at 
court,  until  the  king  had  decided  to  which  party  belonged  the 
blame  of  the  affray ;  but,  as  regarded  the  brush  that  was  im- 
minent between  the  king's  mistresses,  that  was  a  matter  which 
concerned  everybody,  and  everybody  was  in  a  flutter  to  know 
the  result. 

The  lord  chamberlain  having  announced  that  the  court 
was  about  to  make  its  entrance,  the  throng  pressed  forward  to 
the  Gallery  of  Apollo.  Four  immense  chandeliers  lit  up  the 
gorgeous  frescoes  on  the  ceiling,  and  poured  a  flood  of  radi- 
ance upon  the  line  of  stately  courtiers  and  elegant  women  who 
were  the  guests  of  the  king's  leman  that  night.  The  ladies 
coquetted  with  their  large  fans,  whispered  with  the  cavaliers 
cloise  by,  and  dispensed  smiles  and  bewitching  glances  upon 
those  who  were  too  far  for  speech  imtil  the  master  of  ceremo- 
nies flung  open  the  doors,  and  announced  '*  his  majesty  the 
king." 

There  was  at  once  profound  silence  ;  and  in  a  moment 
every  head  was  bent,  and  every  eye  sought  the  floor.  The 
men  bowed  low,  the  women  courtesied  lower,  and  nothing  wai 
to  be  seen  but  a  chaos  of  jewels,  velvet,  brocade,  and  llama,  sur- 
mounted by  feathered,  flowered,  or  ringleted  heads,  and  long; 
flowing  wigs. 


122  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

Tlie  one  personage  who  had  the  right  to  hold  himself  erect 
in  the  presence  of  this  reverential  multitude — the  king — ap- 
peared, followed  by  a  glittering  train  of  marshals,  chamber- 
lains, officers  of  the  royal  household,  and  pages.  His  majesty 
traversed  the  gallery  and  approached  the  throne,  which,  for 
this  festive  occasion,  was  hung  with  white  velvet,  studded 
with  golden  lilies.  Not  far  from  the  royal  arm-chair  stood  a 
lady,  whose  sad  eyes  looked  wearily  upon  the  pageant,  and 
whose  pallid  lips  had  long  since  forgotten  how  to  smile.  It 
was  Maria  Theresa,  the  queen.  She  had  made  her  entry  be- 
fore the  king,  but  it  had  scarcely  been  remarked.  She  was  a 
deserted  wife,  and,  being  without  influence  at  court,  had  no 
favors  to  bestow.  She  was,  therefore,  altogether  sans  conse- 
quence. 

Nevertheless,  she  was  the  queen-consort,  and  Louis,  extend- 
ing his  hand,  and  inclining  his  royal  head,  assisted  her  to 
mount  the  throne.  As  soon  as  the  kingly  pair  were  seated,  his 
majesty's  voice  was  heard — 

"  My  guests  are  welcome." 

As  if  by  enchantment,  feathers,  flowers,  curls,  and  wigs,  all 
rose  up  out  of  chaos,  and  every  eye  was  turned  upon  the 
handsome  person  of  the  sovereign. 

While  all  this  had  been  going  on  Eugene  of  Savoy  stood 
erect,  nor  once  cast  down  his  flashing  eyes  before  the  light- 
ning of  the  royal  presence.  He  had  entered  quietly,  had  re- 
tired to  the  recess  of  a  window,  and,  as  the  crowd  had  simul- 
taneously become  a  heap  of  garments,  he  had  curled  his  lip  in 
contempt.  Suddenly  his  eye  grew  soft,  and  his  mouth  relaxed 
into  a  smile.  Not  far  from  the  throne  he  had  seen  one  head — 
one  beautiful  head,  and  had  met  the  glance  of  a  pair  of  glorious 
eyes,  which  were  quietly  surveying  the  scene,  and,  as  Eugene 
thought,  enjoying  it  with  an  expression  of  suppressed  amuse- 
ment. 

Who  could  she  be,  that,  while  every  other  person  there  had 
lost  his  individuality  and  merged  it  into  one  monstrous  con- 
cretion of  obsequiousness,  had  preserved  her  balance,  and 
stood  undazzled  by  the  rays  of  the  sun  of  France  ?  As  young 
as  she  was  lovely,  whence  came  the  mingled  self-possession 
and  unconsciousness  which  made  her  an  observer  instead  of  a 


THE  COURT-BALL.  123 

worshipper  ?  Eugene  had  never  seen  this  beautiful  creature 
before  ;  but  from  the  depths  of  her  starry  eyes  there  streamed 
a  light  that  went  straight  to  his  heart,  making  strange  reve- 
lation of  some  half-forgotten  bliss  which,  in  an  anterior  state 
of  being,  might  once  have  been  his  own. 

But  how  came  she  hither  ?  What  had  her  fair,  unclouded 
brow,  her  innocent  face,  her  maidenly  bearing  in  common 
with  the  vain,  voluptuous,  and  corrupt  women  around,  who 
were  so  lost  to  shame  as  not  only  to  do  homage  to  the  king's 
mistresses,  but  to  envy  them  the  infamous  distinction  of  his 
preference  ? 

Their  eyes  met ;  and  in  her  glance  of  astonishment  Eugene 
fancied  that  he  saw  mirrored  his  own  surprise  at  her  extraor- 
dinary defiance  of  courtly  servility.  She  too  seemed  to  ask, 
*'  How  is  it  that  you  stand  so  proudly  erect,  when  every  other 
head  is  bent  in  reverence  before  our  sovereign  ?  Who  are  you, 
that  presume  to — " 

But  the  king  and  his  suite  passed  between  them,  and  the 
beautiful  face  was  lost  to  sight.  In  its  place,  Eugene  beheld 
the  haughty  monarch  who  had  caused  such  bitter  tears  to  flow 
from  the  eyes  of  his  dear,  exiled  mother  ;  and  the  thought  of 
that  beloved  mother  led  to  remembrance  of  his  father's  death, 
and  to  the  tyranny  which  would  make  of  his  father's  son  an 
unwilling  priest. 

Meanwhile  the  king  had  seated  himself  on  the  throne,  and 
the  princes  and  princesses  of  the  blood  had  approached  to  pay 
their  homage.  Not  a  sound  was  heard  in  that  splendid  gal- 
lery, save  the  subdued  tones  of  Louis,  who  was  conversing 
with  the  Duke  of  Orleans  ;  for,  until  the  former  rose  to  make 
his  grande  tournie^  etiquette  required  of  his  adoring  subjects 
to  be  dumb. 

A  slight  hum,  however,  began  to  be  heard  at  the  lower  end 
of  the  hall,  and  all  eyes  were  turned  toward  the  door  which 
opened  to  admit  the  woman  whom  the  king  delighted  to 
honor. 

Her  tall  figure  was  set  off  to  great  advantage  by  a  dress  of 
purple  velvet,  embroidered  with  silver.  From  her  voluptuous 
shoulders  drooped  a  mantle,  edged  with  richest  ermine  ;  and 
her  swelling  bust  was  scarcely  concealed  by  a  drapery  of  sil- 


124  PKINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

vered  gauze.  On  her  bosom  she  wore  a  fleur  de  lis  composed 
of  emeralds,  pearls,  and  diamonds,  and  on  her  magnificent 
brow  glittered  a  diadem  of  brilliants  worthy  the  acceptance  of 
an  empress. 

So  haughty  was  her  bearing,  and  so  obsequious  were  the 
salutations  which  greeted  her  entrance,  that  but  for  the  pale 
statue  that  occupied  a  seat  next  the  king,  Madame  de  Mon- 
tespan  might  have  been  mistaken  for  the  queen. 

Eugene's  eyes  had  sought  and  found  the  young  girl,  whose 
sweet  vision  had  been  displaced  by  the  king,  but  who  now,  in 
full  view  of  the  company,  stood  immediately  behind  the  chair 
of  the  Duchess  of  Orleans.  Would  she  bow  her  incomparable 
head  before  that  exalted  harlot  ?  Would  she  outrage  her 
maidenhood  by  acknowledgment  of  De  Montespan's  title  to 
consideration  ?  No  !  Thank  God,  she  was  true  to  her  pure, 
womanly  instincts.  Her  face  crimsoned,  her  delicate  brows 
were  slightly  drawn  together,  and  her  head  was  unconsciously 
raised,  as  if  in  protest  against  the  public  scandal  of  this  wom- 
an's intrusion. 

When  Eugene  saw  this,  his  heart  leaped  with  joy,  and  he 
yearned  to  throw  himself  at  her  feet. 

"  In  Heaven's  name  who  can  she  be,  that  fairy -queen,  who 
fears  not  mortal  man  ? "  thought  he.     "  Who — " 

But  suddenly  his  eye  shot  fire,  and  the  expression  of  his 
face  was  transformed.  He  had  met  the  glance  of.  Barbesieur 
Louvois,  who,  under  shelter  of  De  Montespan's  favor  with 
Louis,  and  the  protection  of  his  father,  had  intruded  himself 
into  the  company  of  the  proudest  nobles  in  France.  How  was 
it  possible  that  the  master  of  ceremonies  had  allowed  to  a  dis- 
graced man  the  privilege  of  appearing  before  the  king  and 
queen  ? 

"  Gracious  Heaven ! "  thought  Eugene,  "  are  honor  and 
shame  but  empty  words?  Is  this,  indeed,  the  Marchioness  de 
Montespan,  whose  entrance  is  greeted  like  that  of  a  sovereign, 
while  the  Countess  de  Soissons  wanders  in  foreign  lands,  a 
fugitive  from  justice  ?  Justice  ? — No !  A  fugitive  from  oppres- 
sion, and  the  kinsman  who  should  have  protected  her — her 
oppressor!  And  is  yonder  swaggering  cavalier  the  caitiff 
whose  back  is  smarting  with  the  lash  of  my  hunting-whip? 


THE  COUBT-BALL.  125 

And  those  smiling  courtiers  there,  who  take  him  by  the  hand 
— ^are  they  the  noblemen  that  upheld  me  in  the  act?  By 
Heaven,  they  greet  him  as  though,  like  me,  his  veins  were  blue 
with  the  blood  of  kings  I  But  no  !— not  all !  The  Princes  of 
Conti  have  refused  to  recognize  him :  they  bow  to  the  minister 
of  war,  but  pass  without  a  word  to  his  son.  For  that  act  I 
shall  hold  them  *  in  my  heart  of  hearts,'  nor  forget  their  man- 
liness while  I  live  to  honor  worth  and  scorn  servility  I " 

Eugene  looked  affectionately  at  his  cousins,  until  his  eyes 
filled  with  tears  of  gratitude  ;  but  they  were  unconscious  of 
the  comfort  they  had  ministered  to  his  wounded  heart,  for 
they  were  not  aware  of  his  pi*esence  in  the  ballroom. 

The  king  had  not  yet  ended  his  long  conversation  with  the 
Duke  of  Orleans.  The  company  stood  still  and  expectant,  and 
the  Marchioness  de  Montespan  began  to  exhibit  signs  of  im- 
patience. She  had  hoped  that  the  ceremonial  of  compliments 
to  and  from  the  royal  family  would  have  been  over  before  her 
entrance  ;  and  now  that  she  had  been  there  fully  ten  minutes^ 
the  king  seemed  as  unconscious  of  her  presence  as  ever. 

But — thank  Heaven  !  the  colloquy  was  at  an  end ;  the  king 
has  risen,  and  has  signified  to  the  queen  that  the  princesses  of 
the  blood  may  rise  also.  He  descends  from  his  throne,  and 
De  Montespan's  heart  is  wild  with  joy.  The  moment  of  her 
triumph  approaches;  Louis  is  about  to  lead  her  out  for  the 
minuet,  and  so  proclaim  her  queen  of  the  festival.  She  smiles 
ineffably ;  in  her  eagerness,  she  almost  rises  from  her  tabouret 
to  meet  him,  but— what  can  he  intend  to  do  ?  Has  he  not  seen 
her  ?— He  turns  away»  and — now  he  extends  his  hand  to  an- 
other I 

De  Montespan  was  perfectly  overwhelmed,  and,  all  eti- 
quette forgetting,  she  actually  rose  from  her  seat  and  took  a 
step  forward,  that  she  might  see  who  was  the  person  that  had 
been  so  singularly  honored  by  the  king. 

Who  wa.s  it  ?  Why,  nobody  but  Sainte  Maintenon,  who, 
without  pomp  or  parade,  had  entered  the  room,  and  had  taktei 
her  tabouret  with  as  much  simplicity  as  she  would  have  seated 
herself  in  church. 

Her  toilet,  as  well  as  her  demeanor,  presented  a  singular 
contrast  with  that  of  her  sparkling  rival.    Her  dress  was  of 


126  PRINCE   EUGENE   AND   HIS  TIMES. 

dark  velvet,  buttoned  up  to  the  throat.  Her  wealth  of  beauti- 
ful black  hair  was  fastened  up  with  a  barbe  of  gossamer  lace, 
and  the  only  ornament  she  wore  around  her  neck  was  a  deli- 
cate gold  chain,  to  which  was  attached  a  miniature  of  Louis  set 
in  superb  brilliants. 

And  upon  this  wearisome,  insipid,  old-fashioned  puppet, 
the  King  of  France  had  bestowed  his  attentions.  De  Monte- 
span  would  have  given  her  diadem  to  have  been  permitted  to 
vent  her  humiliation  in  tears  ;  but  pride  restrained  her,  while 
she  looked  on,  and  saw  how  the  king  led  De  Maintenon  to  the 
queen,  an  honor  hitherto  reserved  for  princesses  of  the  blood. 
And  with  what  feline  humility  she  knelt  and  pressed  her  ma- 
jesty's hands  to  her  unholy  lips  !  Oh !  De  Montespan  could 
have  taken  her  life  when  she  saw  this! 

And  she — she  for  whom  this  gay  assemblage  were  called 
together,  sat  unnoticed  and  alone ;  her  expected  triumph,  defeat 
— every  hope  she  had  cherished  of  love  reciprocated,  and  ambi- 
tion gratified,  transformed  into  despair,  by  one  little  act.  The 
king  had  given  his  hand  to  her  rival  I 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  LADY  OF  THE  BEDCHAMBER. 

The  conversation  between  the  king,  the  queen,  and  Ma- 
dame de  Maintenon,  was  long  and  interesting.  When  she 
saw  the  former  rise  and  incline  his  head,  De  Montespan's 
heart  fluttered  with  expectation ;  but  his  majesty  stopped  be- 
fore the  Duchess  of  Orleans,  and  there  he  lingered  so  long 
that  everybody  wondered  what  could  be  the  attraction  there. 
Presently  Elizabeth-Charlotte  turned  to  the  young  girl  who 
stood  beside  her,  and  presented  her  to  the  king.  How  beauti- 
ful she  was  I  How  enchanting  her  smile,  how  charming  her 
blushes  ! 

She  was  evidently  a  stranger,  and  De  Montespan  set  her 
down  as  an  enemy,  for  she  had  not  complied  with  the  customs 
of  the  court,  by  which  every  lady  introduced  there  was  ex- 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  BEDCHAMBER.        127 

pected  to  leave  a  card  for  the  mistress  of  the  king.     An  enemy, 
then,  she  must  be — perchance,  a  rival !    But  who  was  she  ? 

"  Yes,  who  is  she  ? "  thought  Prince  Eugene,  as,  transfixed 
with  admiration,  he  gazed  upon  her  lovely  face.  "  I  must 
know,"  exclaimed  he  aloud,  while  he  pressed  forward  to  make 
the  inquiry. 

There  was  no  one  near  to  whom  he  could  address  himself, 
for  he  now  for  the  first  time  remarked  that  he  stood  quite 
alone.  He  began  to  be  aware  that  his  friends  were  shy  and 
kept  aloof;  but  Eugene  had  come  to  this  ball  to  prove  that  the 
son  of  the  Countess  de  Soissons  was  not  to  be  browbeaten  by 
king  or  courtier;  and  he  went  on  and  on  imtil  he  stood  so  near 
to  Louis  that  he  could  look  him  full  in  the  eye. 

The  grand  monarque  knit  his  brows,  and  presumed  that 
the  Prince  of  Savoy  would  understand  the  hint,  and  with- 
draw ;  but  Eugene  paid  no  attention  to  the  Olympic  frown,  or 
affected  not  to  see  it. 

Louis,  who  had  been  chatting  with  the  little  Duke  of 
Maine,  strode  angrily  forward  and  addressed  the  prince  : 

"  I  judge  from  your  eyes,  little  abbe,  that  you  have  come 
hither  to  ask  some  favor  of  us  to-night  ? " 

"Then  my  eyes  belie  my  purpose,  your  majesty,"  replied 
Eugene,  quietly.     "  I  have  no  favor  to  ask  of  any  one." 

"  I  imderstand,"  said  the  king,  slightly  raising  his  shoul- 
ders.    "  You  have  come  for  an  answer  to  your  last  petition  ? " 

"  Pardon  me,  sire,  I  have  presented  no  petition  whatever  to 
your  majesty." 

"  If  you  have  not,  your  mother,  the  Countess  de  Soissons, 
has  presented  one  for  you.  She  begged  me,  not  long  ago,  to 
appoint  you  prebendary  of  a  cathedral :  as  she  has  thought 
proper  to  abscond  from  my  dominions,  I  have  had  no  oppor- 
tunity of  answering  her  request.  When  you  write  to  her, 
you  can  tell  her  that  it  is  refused.  Prince  Eugene  of  Savoy 
leads  too  worldly  a  life  to  deserve  promotion  in  the  church. 
Bullies  are  not  apt  to  distinguish  themselves  as  ecclesiastics." 

"  Sire,  I  thank  your  majesty ;  for  the  sentiments  to  which 
you  have  just  given  utterance  release  me  from  further  obliga- 
tion to  enter  upon  a  career  for  which  I  have  neither  inclinar 
tion  nor  calling." 


128  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

To  these  bold  words  Louis  vouchsafed  no  answer.  He  an- 
nihilated the  offender  with  a  glance,  and  passed  on.  Then 
turning  to  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  he  said  in  a  voice  that  was  in- 
tended to  be  generally  heard,  "  I  cannot  imagine  what  that 
little  abbe  of  Savoy  wants  here  to-night.  His  face  brings  me 
bad  luck."* 

This  was  enough  to  damn  Eugene  forever  at  the  French 
court.  It  was  the  anathema  maranatha  of  his  sovereign, 
and  cast  him  out  from  association  with  all  loyal  subjects. 
Nobody  m  those  vast  halls  would  have  been  seen  in  his  vicin- 
ity ;  his  best  friends  would  not  now  have  ventured  one  look 
of  sympathy  or  kindness  toward  a  nobleman  so  publicly  and 
pointedly  insulted  by  royalty.  He  was  henceforth  a  proscribed 
man. 

The  Princes  de  Conti  were  sorely  grieved,  but  they  dared^ 
no  more  than  their  compeers,  risk  the  displeasure  of  the  king 
by  upholding  their  outraged  kinsman.  The  eldest  one,  how- 
ever, managed  to  whisper  a  word  or  two  in  passing. 

"  Dear  Eugene,"  said  he,  "  do  be  reasonable,  and  put  an  end 
to  this  abominable  scene  by  going  home.  Our  hearts  are  all 
with  you,  but  we  dare  not  affront  the  king  by  the  smallest 
demonstration  on  your  behalf;  he  is  looking  out  for  it,  and 
would  revenge  himself  effectually.  We  went  this  morning 
with  De  la  Roche  Guyon  to  Louvois,  and  obtained  his  sacred 
promise  to  ignore  your  difficulty  with  his  son,  and  allow  it  to 
be  settled  between  yourselves.  But  he  has  evidently  not  kept 
his  word;  for  the  affair  has  been  misrepresented  to  the  king, 
and  the  insult  you  have  received  is  a  proof  of  it.  Go  away 
for  a  few  weeks  until  it  blows  over,  and  all  will  have  been  for- 
gotten." 

"  I  have  no  desire  to  have  my  affairs  forgotten ;  I  trust  that 
they  may  be  remembered,"  replied  Eugene.  "  But  hark !  the 
music. — We  are  to  have  the  ineffable  privilege  of  seeing  the 
king  dance.  Doubtless  you  have  already  secured  a  partner, 
and  I  will  not  detain  you." 

The  music  was  heard,  and  his  majesty  went  through  the 
usual  form  of  requesting  the  queen  to  open  the  ball.  She  an- 
swered, as  she  was  expected  to  do,  that  her  health  was  too 
*  The  king's  own  words. — See  "  Memoirs  of  the  Duke  de  St.  Simon,"  vol.  x 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  BEDCHAMBER.  lOg* 

feeble  for  her  to  enjoy  dancing,  and  she  hoped  bis  majesty 
would  excuse  her,  and  find  another  partner. 

This  was  always  a  time  of  suspense  and  excitement  at  court- 
balls  ;  for  the  lady  who  was  then  selected  by  the  king  was,  de 
facto,  the  queen  of  the  festival.  The  minuet's  enticing  meas- 
ure was  calling  upon  its  votaries  to  commence;  but,  until  the- 
king  had  made  his  choice,  no  one  could  stir. 

Madame  de  Montespan's  heart  began  to  throb  anew  with 
hope.  This  time  she  was  sure  of  being  chosen,  for  De  Mainte- 
non  did  not  dance  ;  and,  after  ail,  what  signified  a  few  words 
with  the  queen,  compared  with  the  glory  of  being  led  out  to 
the  dance  by  the  king  ? 

Her  eyes  sparkled  with  animation,  her  mouth  began  ta 
ripple  with  happy  smiles,  and  oh !  triumph  and  joy !  the  king 
was  seen  coming  in  that  direction. 

But  again  he  stopped  to  speak  with  the  Duchess  of  Orleans. 
What  could  he  want  of  her?  If  De  Montespan  had  been 
within  hearing,  she  need  not  have  wondered,  for  Louis  merely 
requested  the  pleasure  of  her  hand  for  the  dance. 

Elizabeth-Charlotte  looked  up  in  astonishment. 

"  I  hope  I  have  not  fallen  into  disfavor,"  said  Louis,  an- 
swering the  look.     ''  You  are  not  about  to  refuse  me  ? " 

"  Oh.  sire,"  replied  his  sister-in-law,  laughing,  "  I  am  merely 
overcome  with  your  condescension.  But  your  majesty  knows,'*^ 
continued  she,  seriously,  "  that  since  my  father's  death  I  have 
never  danced.  I  was  enjoying  myself  in  this  very  hall  while 
he  was  expiring  at  home  ;  and  from  that  unhappy  day  I  have 
never  desired  to  dance  again.  Moreover,  I  am  a  miserable 
partner,  and  you  would  be  ashamed  of  me." 

"  How  ashamed  ? "  asked  Louis,  amused  at  his  sister-in-law*s 
artlessness. 

"  I  mean,  sire,  that  strive  as  I  will,  I  am  always  behind- 
hand in  a  dance.  I  am  like  the  snail,  who,  being  invited  to  a 
wedding,  arrived  there  a  year  after,  and  found  herself  the  first 
g^est  that  had  come  to  the  christening.  As  she  entered  the 
garden  she  fell  into  a  ha-ha,  whereupon  she  said^  '  More  haste, 
worse  speed.'" 

Louis  laughed  heartily.  "  Then  I  am  refused,  dear  sister,'^ 
said  he,  **  and  I  must  acquiesce  in  your  decision.    But  I  must 


130  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

have  satisfaction  for  the  affront.    You  must  find  a  substi- 
tute." 

"A  substitute  !"  exclaimed  the  duchess,  reddening  with 
anger,  as  she  fancied  she  saw  the  king's  eyes  wander  to  the 
tabouret  whereon  De  Montespan  still  waited  and  smiled. 
"  Surely,  your  majesty  would  not  ask  of  me — " 

"Why  not  ? "  cried  Louis,  enjoying  her  perplexity.  "Why 
may  I  not  ask  you  to  procure  me  a  substitute  of  your  own 
selection  ?    It  is  not  much  for  you  to  do — is  it  ? " 

As  he  spoke,  the  eyes  of  the  king  rested  unequivocally  upon 
an  object  which  he  perceived  jast  behind  the  chair  of  the 
duchess.     She  understood,  and  hastened  to  repair  her  blunder. 

"  Sire,"  said  she  "  may  I  ask  of  your  majesty  a  favor  ?  My 
new  lady  of  the  bedchamber  has  just  arrived  in  Paris,  where 
she  is  a  perfect  stranger.  "  Will  you  be  so  gracious  as  to  give 
her  this  proof  of  your  royal  favor  ?  She  is  not  only  my  favor- 
ite attendant,  but  the  daughter  of  your  majesty's  minister  of 
war,  and — " 

"  And  she  is,  above  all  things,  herself — the  beautiful  Mar- 
chioness  de  Bonaletta,"  interrupted  the  king,  with  somewhat 
of  his  youthful  courtliness  and  grace.  "  You  propose  her  as 
your  substitute,  do  you  not  ? " 

"  Yes,  sire — if  your  majesty  is  so  good." 

"  So  good  !  I  shall  esteem  myself  most  happy  in  the  acqui- 
sition of  so  charming  a  partner.  Does  the  Marchioness  de 
Bonaletta  consent  ? " 

With  these  words,  Louis  offered  his  hand  :  and  Laura, 
without  embarrassment  or  presumption,  accepted  the  honor 
conferred  upon  her,  and  was  led  out  to  the  dance.  A  murmur 
of  admiration  followed  her  appearance,  but  she  seemed  quite 
unconscious  of  the  impression  she  had  made.  Her  lovely 
countenance  was  neither  lit  up  by  pride,  nor  suffused  by  bash- 
fulness.  Her  cheeks  were  slightly  flushed  by  natural  mod^ 
esty,  and  her  sweet,  unaffected  bearing  enhanced  her  income 
parable  beauty  of  person. 

Even  De  Montespan  herself  could  not  withhold  her  tribute 
of  admiration.  At  first  she  had  darted  glances  of  hatred 
toward  an  imaginary  rival  ;  but  a  calm  survey  of  Laura's  pure 
and  angelic  expression  of  face  reassured  her.    This  girl  had 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  BEDCHAMBER        131 

no  mind  to  entrap  the  king,  and  if  Louis  had  not  courage 
enough  to  dance  with  her  (De  Montespan),  in  presence  of  that 
canting  hypocrite  De  Maintenon,  perhaps  it  was  quite  as  well 
that  he  had  provided  himself  with  a  partner  sans  coquetterie^ 
and  therefore  sans  cans^uence. 

Madame  de  Maintenon,  too,  had  remarked  Laura,  as,  grace- 
fully emerging  from  her  concealment  behind  the  seat  of  the 
duchess,  she  had  unostentatiously  accepted  the  king's  invita- 
tion to  dance. 

*'  What  a  union  of  tact  with  tenderness  of  heart  is  appar- 
ent in  all  that  his  majesty  does,"  said  she  to  the  Duke  de 
Maine,  who  was  standing  beside  her.  "  This  young  girl  is  the 
personification  of  innocence  and  purity,  and  his  majesty's  se- 
lection of  her  as  his  partner  proves  that  he  not  only  desires  to 
pay  homage  to  youth  and  beauty,  but  also  to  virtue  and  mod- 
esty." 

"  How  beautiful  she  is  ! "  murmured  a  young  cavalier,  who, 
with  Barbesieur  Louvois,  was  watching  the  dancers. 

"Why  do  you  sigh?"  replied  Barbesieur.  "You  ought 
rather  to  be  proud  of  your  future  bride." 

"  My  future  bride  ! "  echoed  he,  dolefully.  "  I  would  she 
were,  my  dear  friend.  But  although  your  father  has  so  gra- 
ciously given  his  consent,  I  am  as  far  from  obtaining  her  as 
ever." 

'*It  you  wait  for  that,"  whispered  Barbesieur  in  return, 
"you  may  wait  until  the  day  of  judgement.  My  sister  is  one 
of  those  incomprehensible  beings  that  loves  opposition  for  op- 
position's sake.  If  she  is  disdainful,  it  is  precisely  because  she 
is  quite  as  much  enamored  of  you  as  you  are  of  her.  She  is 
a  sort  of  chaste  Artemis  who  is  ashamed  of  her  preference  for 
a  man,  and  would  die  rather  than  confess  it." 

"  She  enchants  me  at  one  moment,  and  drives  me  to  despair 
the  next,"  sighed  the  marquis. 

**  No  need  for  despair,"  was  the  reply.  "  My  dear  marquis,** 
continued  Barbesieur,  coming  close  to  the  ear  of  the  Italian, 
**  what  wiU  you  give  me  if  I  promise  that  you  shall  become 
her  husband  ? " 

The  eyes  of  the  marquis  glowed  with  desire,  and  his  swarthy 
face  was  tinged  with  red.    "  What  would  I  give  ? "  cried  he. 


132  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

as  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  Laura  on  the  dance.  "  The  half  of 
my  fortune,  the  half  of  my  life,  if,  with  one  half  of  either,  I 
might  call  her  mine  ! " 

"  Nay,"  said  Barbesieur,  with  a  sinister  laugh,  "  I  am  neither 
robber  nor  devil.  I  wish  neither  your  fortune  nor  your  soul 
in  exchange  for  my  wares.  Laura  is  so  headstrong,  that  she 
■will  have  to  be  forced  into  happiness,  and  made  to  take  what 
even  now  she  is  longing  to  snatch.  So  if  I  make  you  both 
happy,  you  will  not  then  object  to  giving  me  a  few  of  the 
crumbs  that  fall  from  your  table  ? " 

*'  I  will  give  you  any  thing  you  desire,  and  my  eternal  grat- 
itude to  boot,  if  you  will  help  me  to  become  possessor  of  that 
angel." 

"  I  am  passionately  fond  of  hunting,  and  the  Marchioness 
de  Bonaletta  has  the  most  tempting  bit  of  woods  that  ever 
made  a  hunter's  heart  ache  to  call  it  his.  Now  if  you  marry 
Laura,  you  become  her  guardian,  and  have  absolute  power 
over  her  property." 

"I  care  nothing  for  her  property,"  cried  the  marquis, 
passionately.  "Her  beauty,  her  sweetness,  and  her  noble 
birth,  are  wealth  enough  for  me.  Li  the  golden  book  of 
Venice  the  name  of  the  richest  noble  there  inscribed  is  the 
Strozzi." 

"Everybody  knows  that,  dear  marquis,  and  therefore  you 
will  not  refuse  the  reward  I  claim  from  my  sister's  own 
possessions.  'Tis  but  meet  that  she  make  a  present  to  her 
brother  on  her  wedding-day.  So,  then,  we  understand  each 
other  :  immediately  after  the  ceremony  of  your  marriage,  you 
make  out  a  deed  by  which  you  relinquish  to  me  the  usufruct 
of  the  Bonaletta  estates  in  Savoy  for  life.  "Who  gels  them 
after  me,  I  care  not." 

"  I  consent ;  and  add  thereunto  a  yearly  pension  of  one 
thousand  ducats.     Does  that  content  you  ? " 

"  Your  liberality  is  really  touching.  A  thousand  ducats  to 
boot !  They  will  fall  like  a  refreshing  shower  into  a  purse 
that  is  always  as  empty  as  the  sieves  of  the  Danaides.  It  is  a 
bargain.  You  wed  Laura  Bonaletta,  and  I  get  her  estates,  and 
one  thousand  ducats  a  year." 

"Here  is  my  hand." 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  BEDCHAMBER.  I33 

"  And  mine.    In  one  month  you  shall  hoth  be  on  your  way 
to  Venice  ;  you  a  happy  brideg^room,  and  she — your  bride." 


CHAPTER    Vn. 

THE  LADY  OF  THE  BEDCHAMBER. 

The  dance  was  over,  and  the  king  reconducted  Laura  to  her 
chaperone.  "  My  dear  sister,"  said  he,  "  the  fascinations  of  the 
partner  you  selected  for  me  are  almost  enough  to  reconcile 
one  to  a  refusal  from  yourself.  I  am  convinced  that  I  have 
been  the  envy  of  every  cavalier  present.  I  withdraw,  there- 
fore, that  I  may  not  stand  in  the  way  of  the  fair  Laura's  ad- 
mirers. *' 

And  gracefully  saluting  his  partner,  the  royal  flirt  betook 
himself  at  last  to  poor  De  Montespan,  who  had  tact  enough  to 
smother  her  chagrin,  and  give  him  a  cordial  reception.  It 
was  better  to  be  noticed  late  than  never. 

"  Your  highness,"  whispered  Laura,  bending  over  the  back 
of  the  duchess's  chair,  "  pray  command  me  not  to  dance  any 
more.  Do  you  see  that  swarthy,  sinister  face  over  there,  close 
to  Barbesieur  ?  It  is  the  Marquis  de  Strozzi  staring  at  me  al- 
ready. He  is  about  to  come  hither,  and  if  you  do  not  assist 
me  I  shall  have  to  dance  with  him." 

"  Never  fear,  darling,"  whispered  the  duchess  in  return. 
*'  They  shall  not  rob  me  of  you  so  soon.  Take  your  place,  and, 
being  on  duty,  no  one  can  claim  you,  were  it  the  wild  hunter 
himself." 

Laura  hastened  to  resume  her  station,  and,  in  doing  so, 
glanced  toward  the  window,  where  stood  the  pale  young  man 
whom  she  had  noticed  before.  Their  eyes  met  again,  and 
again  she  blushed.  Laura  bent  her  head,  and,  feigning  to  ar- 
range a  displaced  ringlet  on  the  head  of  her  mistress,  she  said, 
in  low,  earnest  tones  :  "  Pardon  me,  gracious  mistress ;  but 
will  you  tell  me  who  is  that  young  cavalier  in  the  recess  of 
the  window  opposite  ? " 

'*  Certainly,  my  dear/'  rej)lied  the  duchess  in  the  same  tone 


134  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

of  voice.  "  He  is  one  whom  all  the  courtiers  avoid  to-night- 
miserable  timeservers  as  they  are— for  he  has  fallen  into  dis- 
grace with  your  father  and  the  king.  He  is  Prince  Eugene  of 
Savoy." 

"Prince  Eugene!"  echoed  Laura.  "He  who  laid  the 
weight  of  his  whip  over  Barbesieur's  shoulders  this  morn- 
ing!" 

"Yes,  the  same,  and  he  has  been  publicly  rebuked  for  it  to- 
night. Your  father  has  received  full  satisfaction,  Laura  ;  for, 
not  only  has  his  majesty  offered  a  pointed  slight  to  the  man 
who  disgraced  Barbesieur,  but  he  has  paid  him  a  signal  com- 
pliment by  opening  the  ball  with  his  sister. " 

"  If  I  had  imagined  that  any  thought  of  Barbesieur  min- 
gled with  the  compliment  paid  me  by  the  king,  I  would  have 
refused  to  dance  with  him." 

The  duchess  looked  up  astounded.  "  Why,  Laura,  such  an 
insult  to  his  majesty  would  almost  amount  to  treason.  For 
Heaven's  sake,  never  utter  such  sentiments  at  court,  child  ! " 

"  What  care  I  for  the  court  ? "  cried  Laura,  her  eyes  filling 
with  tears.  "  I  am  overwhelmed  with  the  shame  of  having 
been  made  use  of  as  a  tool  wherewith  to  humiliate  the  noble 
Prince  de  Carignan  !  But  I  shall  repair  the  wrong  I  have 
done  him,  and  that  in  presence  of  the  court ! " 

"  Thoughtless,  impulsive  child,  what  would  you  do  ? "  said 
Elizabeth-Charlotte,  anxiously.  "I  really  believe  you  are 
ready  to  go  up  and  give  him  a  kiss,  by  way  of  proving  that 
you  are  not  a  party  to  his  humiliation  to-night  ! " 

"  Perhaps  I  am  ! "  exclaimed  Laura,  passionately.  "  The 
prince  was  right  to  punish  Barbesieur  for  his  cowardly  at- 
tack upon  a  noble  lady ;  and  my  brother-in-law,  De  la  Roche 
Guyon,  was  one  of  those  who  justify  him.  I,  too,  applaud  his 
spirit ;  for,  in  avenging  his  mother,  he  avenged  mine.  This 
morning,  when  no  king  was  by  to  uphold  the  calumniator,  all 
these  nobles  were  the  friends  of  the  prince,  and  not  one  of 
them  would  lift  the  gauntlet  which,  with  his  brave  hand,  he 
flung  to  the  world.  And  to-night  they  desert  him  ! — They  are 
not  worthy  to  touch  the  hem  of  his  garment ! — But  I  will  take 
his  hand — the  noble  hand  that  had  disgraced  his  mother's  tra- 
ducer  beyond  the  power  of  royalty  to  undo  I " 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  BEDCHAMBER.  I35 

"You  will  do  no  such  thing,  you  dear  little  madcap  !"  re- 
turned the  duchess,  glancing  admiringly  at  the  beaming 
countenance  of  the  beautiful  enthusiast.  "  You  have  a  brave 
heart,  dear  child  ;  but  you  must  not  allow  it  to  run  away  with 
your  judgment.  You  must  keep  your  place  at  my  side,  nor 
let  magnanimity  get  the  better  of  discretion.  The  latter  is  a 
cardinal  virtue  in  woman.  But— see  how  the  Marquis  de 
Strozzi  devours  us  with  his  eyes ;  he  is  waiting  until  I  cease 
speaking  to  come  forward  and  claim  your  hand.  Be  com- 
forted— he  shall  not  have  it.  Here  he  comes — let  the  cham- 
berlain have  a  chance  to  present  him." 

So  saying,  she  turned  away  from  Laura,  and  began  to  fan 
herself  vigorously,  while  the  marquis  and  the  chamberlain 
advanced. 

"  Your  royal  highness,"  said  the  latter,  reverentially,  "  may 
I  present  the  Marquis  de  Strozzi  ? " 

"I  am  acquainted  with  him,"  interrupted  the  duchess. 
*'  He  needs  no  introduction.  How  do  you  like  Paris,  marquis  ? 
Why  are  you  not  dancing  this  evening  ? " 

*'  Your  royal  highness  has  anticipated  my  wishes,"  was  the 
reply.  "  I  am  anxious  to  dance,  and  crave  your  permission  to 
offer  my  hand  to  the  Marchioness  de  Bonaletta." 

"  I  regret  to  disoblige  you,"  answered  the  duchess,  "  but  you 
see  that  she  is  on  duty,  and  etiquette  forbids  her  to  leave  her 
post,  except  for  two  dances.  His  majesty  has  had  the  first, 
and  for  the  second  she  is  engaged." 

"  Then  I  shall  follow  her  example,  and  decline  to  dance," 
returned  De  Strozzi,  with  his  burning  glances  rivetted  upon 
Laura's  face. 

She  drew  back  haughtily.  "  The  Marquis  de  Strozzi  will 
oblige  me  by  following  the  example  of  some  other  person.  I 
have  no  desire  to  be  remarked  by  him  in  any  way." 

The  marquis's  brow  grew  dark,  and  his  eyes  glowed  like 
coals  of  fire.  But  he  made  an  attempt  to  smile  as  he  re- 
plied, **  However  I  might  be  inclined  to  obey  your  commands, 
I  have  it  not  in  my  power  to  comply  with  a  request  so  un- 
reasonable." 

The  duchess  saw  how  the  crimson  blood  was  mantling  in 
the  cheeks  of  her  "dear  little  madcap,"  and  she  thought  it 
10 


136  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

prudent  to  put  an  end  to  the  skirmish  by  rising  from  her 
seat. 

•'I  will  take  a  turn  through  the  ballroom,"  said  she. 
^'  Come,  marchioness." 

She  came  down  from  the  platform  reserved  to  the  various 
members  of  the  royal  family,  and  mingled  with  the  gay  groups 
below,  addressing  here  and  there  a  greeting  to  her  friends,  or 
stopping  to  receive  their  heartfelt  homage.  Side  by  side  came 
the  duchess  and  her  lady  of  the  bedchamber  ;  the  latter  all 
unconscious  of  her  beauty,  enjoying  the  scene  with  the  zest  of 
youth,  unmindful  of  the  fact  that  at  every  step  she  took,  her 
admirers  increased,  until  the  cortege  was  as  long  as  the  trail 
of  a  comet. 

But  one  face  she  sees — the  noble  countenance  of  Prince 
Eugene— who,  as  she  approaches  the  window  near  which  he 
stands,  looks  as  though  the  morning  sun  had  shone  upon  his 
heart,  driving  away  all  darkness  and  all  night.  She  sees  that 
joyous  look,  and  with  a  wild  bound  her  heart  leaps  to  meet 
his.  Her  brow  crimsons  with  shame,  and  she  presses  close 
to  the  duchess,  as  if  to  seek  protection  from  her  own  emo- 
tion. 

Elizabeth-Charlotte  misunderstood  the  movement,  or  she 
may  have  guessed  the  longing  that  was  struggling  with  deco- 
rum in  the  heart  of  her  young  attendant.  She  advanced  to- 
ward the  prince,  and  signed  for  him  to  approach. 

Eugene  started  forward  and  stood  directly  in  front  of  them. 
"  How  is  the  Princess  de  Carignan  ? "  asked  the  duchess, 
kindly,  "  and  why  is  she  not  here  to-night  ?  I  hope  she  is  not 
indisposed  I " 

"  Your  highness,"  returned  Eugene,  with  a  smile,  "  she  is 
ill  with  a  malady  that  has  attacked  every  member  of  our 
family." 

"  What  malady,  prince  ? " 

"  The  malady  of  royal  disfavor,  your  highness." 

*'  That  is  indeed  a  fearful  malady,  prince,  for  it  rarely  at- 
tacks the  innocent." 

"Pardon  me,  your  highness,"  returned  Eugene,  calmly, 
"since  the  death  of  Cardinal  Mazarin  'tis  a  heritage  in  our 
family,  and—" 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  BEDCHAMBER,        I37 

•■  Madame,"  said  a  voice  behind  the  duchess,  "  be  so  good  as 
to  take  my  arm.     The  queen  desires  your  attendance." 

Eugene  looked  up,  and  saw  a  small,  effeminate  personage, 
magnificently  attired,  and  wearing  the  broad,  blue  band  of  the 
order  of  St  Louis.  He  recognized  the  king's  brother,  the  Duke 
of  Orleans. 

The  duchess,  with  a  sigh,  laid  her  arm  within  that  of  her 
husband  ;  but,  disregarding  his  frowns,  she  remained  to  say  a 
parting  word  to  the  victim  of  kingly  displeasure. 

"  Give  my  regards  to  the  princess,  your  grandmother,  and 
tell  her  that  if  her  indisposition  lasts,  I  will  go  in  person  to 
express  my  sympathy  with  you  both." 

"  Madame,"  said  the  duke,  angrily,  while,  with  little  regard 
to  courtesy,  he  almost  dragged  her  along  with  him,  "  you  will 
do  no  such  thing.  I  cannot  understand  your  audacity  ;  still 
less  will  I  countenance  it.  The  Prince  of  Savoy  has  been  so 
pointedly  slighted  by  his  majesty,  that  no  one  dares  be  seen 
conversing  with  him  ;  it  seems  to  me  that  you  set  a  shameful 
example  to  the  court  by  noticing  one  whom  your  king  has 
been  pleased  to  reprove." 

'*It  seems  to  me  that  my  example  would  be  worse,  were 
I  to  ignore  my  acquaintances  because  they  happen  to  be 
momentarily  out  of  favor  at  court,"  replied  Elizabeth-Char- 
lotte. "Such  miserable  servility  may  beseem  a  courtier, 
but  it  ill  becomes  our  princely  station.  And  if  the  king 
speaks  to  me  on  the  subject,  I  shall  say  as  much  to  him,  for 
his  majesty  has  a  noble  heart  and  wi)l  approve  my  independ- 
ence." 

"While  their  royal  highnesses  were  thus  interchanging  opin- 
ions on  the  subject  of  court  ethics,  a  scene  was  being  enacted 
behind  them,  which,  had  he  witnessed  it,  would  have  callod 
forth  the  indignation  of  the  duke. 

The  Marchioness  Bonaletta,  as  a  matter  of  course,  had  fol- 
lowed her  mistress ;  but  during  his  short  colloquy  with  the 
latter,  Eugene  had  received  so  sweet  a  smile  from  her  attend- 
ant, that  he  followed  at  a  distance ;  resolved,  since  he  could 
do  no  more,  to  gaze  at  her  until  the  ball  was  over.  In  spite 
of  the  throng  which  closed  as  fast  as  the  ducal  pair  went  by, 
Eugene  saw  that  the  marchioness  had  dropped  her  fan.    It 


138  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

became  entangled  in  the  train  of  another  lady,  and  finally  was 
dragged  to  the  floor. 

Eugene  rescued  it  from  destruction,  and  hastened  with  it  to 
its  owner,  who  appeared  just  to  have  discovered  her  loss. 

"  You  are  looking  for  your  fan  ? "  said  he,  with  a  beaming 
smile. 

"  Yes,  prince,"  replied  she,  giving  him  in  return  a  look  that 
almost  maddened  him  with  joy— it  was  so  kind,  so,  gentle  so 
sympathizing. 

"I  have  been  so  fortunate  as  to  find  it,"  replied  he,  in  a 
voice  whose  music  thrilled  the  heart  of  her  to  whom  he  spoke. 
"  And  to  be  permitted  to  return  it  to  you,  confers  upon  me  the 
first  pleasurable  sensation  I  have  felt  since  I  entered  this  un- 
friendly palace  to-night." 

''  I  am  happy  to  have  been  the  means,"  she  began.  But  just 
then  the  Duke  of  Orleans  turned  around,  and  his  indignation 
may  be  imagined  when  he  saw  the  Prince  of  Savoy  in  conver- 
sation with  a  lady  of  the  duchess's  household  ! 

"  Call  your  lady  of  the  bedchamber  hither,"  said  he,  impe- 
riously. "  That  little  abbe  has  the  assurance  to  follow  us,  as 
though  to  defy  his  majesty,  and  prove  to  the  court  that,  if  no- 
body else  esteems  him,  he  has  friends  in  the  household  of  the 
Duchess  of  Orleans.     Send  that  young  lady  on  some  errand." 

The  duchess  walked  a  few  steps  farther,  then  turning 
around  she  beckoned  to  Laura.  "  Come,  Marchioness  de  Bona- 
letta,  I  must  present  you  to  the  queen. " 

"  Ah  !  "  thought  Eugene,  as  he  took  up  his  position  in  the 
window  again,  "  if  I  may  not  follow  her,  at  least  I  know  her 
name  1  Marchioness  Bonaletta — what  a  pretty  name  it  is  !  I 
have  never  heard  it  before,  nor  have  I  ever  seen  any  thing  that 
reminded  me  of  her  lovely  person.  'Tis  plain  that  she  is  a 
stranger  at  this  corrupt  court.  Those  limpid  eyes,  that  brow 
of  innocence,  those  heavenly  smiles  — O  my  God  !  what  sudden 
thrill  of  joy  is  this  which  pervades  my  being  ?  What  flood  of 
ecstasy  is  this  which  drowns  my  soul  in  bliss  !  Oh,  angel 
of  beauty — " 

But  his  raptures  were  suddenly  brought  to  a  close  by  the 
sight  of  Louvois,  who  with  his  son  joined  the  party  of  the 
Duchess  of  Orleans.     He  did  not  like  to  see  him  so  near  his 


THE  LADY  OP  THE  BEDCHAMBER.  13^ 

angel ;  but  his  uneasiness  increased  to  positive  pain  when  he 
saw  her  extend  her  hand,  and  greet  him  with  one  of  her  sweet- 
est smiles. 

"  So,"  thought  Eugene,  **  she  is  like  the  rest  I  Louvois  is 
the  favorite  of  the  king,  and  of  De  Maintenon,  and  therefore 
she  greets  him  as  though  he  were  a  near  and  dear  friend.  But 
what  is  it  to  me  ?  I  came  here  to  show  his  majesty  that  I  shall 
maintain  my  rights  in  the  face  of  his  displeasure,  and  here  I 
shall  remain,  though  she  and  every  other  woman  here  do  hom- 
age to  my  foes.     What  is  the  Marchioness  Bonaletta  to  me  ?'* 

But,  in  spite  of  himself,  his  eyes  would  wander  to  the  spot 
where  she  stood,  and  his  heart  seemed  ready  to  burst  when  he 
beheld  Barbesieur  approach  her.  He  spoke  to  her  and  she  an- 
swered him ;  but  Eugene  could  see  that  she  was  displeased. 
Could  he  have  heard  the  words  she  addressed  to  Barbesieur,  he 
would  have  hated  himself  for  his  unworthy  suspicions,  and 
would  have  acknowledged  that  she  was  not  like  the  rest. 

"  So  my  lovely  sister  has  refused  to  dance  with  the  Marquis 
de  Strozzi  ? "  said  Barbesieur. 

"Yes,"  was  the  curt  reply. 

"  And  may  one  venture  to  inquire  why  ?  ** 

She  darted  a  glance  of  contempt  at  him.  "  Because  he  is 
your  friend.'* 

Barbesieur  laughed.  "I  really  believe  that  you  are  in  ear- 
nest, my  candid  sister.  It  is  enough  for  a  man  to  be  my  friend 
to  earn  your  enmity." 

**  You  are  right,"  said  she,  deHberately. 

"  But  you  will  hardly  go  so  far  as  to  say  that  it  suffices  for 
a  man  to  be  my  foe,  to  be  your  friend,"  said  he  with  an  ugly 
frown. 

"  What  if  it  were  so  ? "  said  she. 

"If  it  were  so,  I  would  advise  my  sister  not  to  provoke  me 
too  far.  I  would  advise  her  not  to  make  any  more  demonstra- 
tions of  regard  to  the  little  abbe  of  Savoy,  and  to  remember 
that  she  is  my  sister." 

"When  I  heard  of  all  that  took  place  this  morning  at  the 
Pr6  aux  Clercs,"  said  Laura,  "I  remembered  it  to  my  shame 
and  sorrow." 

Barbesieur  grew  pale  with  rage  and  hissed  into  his  sister** 


140  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

ear — "  Have  a  care,  girl,  how  you  rouse  me  to  retaliation  !  I 
can  crush  you  like  a  worm  under  my  heel ;  and  as  for  yonder 
princely  beggar,  be  assured  that  I  shall  remember  him  to  his 
cost." 

"  Which  means  that  you  will  bring  suit  against  him,  and 
obtain  damages,"  replied  she,  contemptuously ;  "  for  you  know 
that  the  Prince  of  Savoy  will  not  condescend  to  fight  a  duel 
with  Barbesieur  de  Louvois." 

"I  would  not  make  myself  ridiculous  by  fighting  with  such 
an  apology  for  a  man  ;  but  I  will  crush  him  as  I  would  any 
other  reptile  that  attempts  to  injure  me.  There  shall  not  be  a 
day  of  his  life  that  does  not  bring  him  some  pang  which  he 
shall  owe  to  the  hate  of  Barbesieur  de  Louvois.  And  I  counsel 
you  not  to  imitate  his  audacity,  for — " 

"  Why,  you  scarcely  expect  me  to  bestow  a  horsewhipping 
upon  you  ? "  laughed  Laura.  "  But  I  am  not  afraid  of  you, 
Barbesieur  ;  it  is  not  in  your  power  to  injure  me." 

"  If  you  are  not  afraid  of  me,  so  much  the  worse  for  you  ; 
I  should  have  thought  that  you  had  learned  from  your 
mother,  how  Barbesieur  de  Louvois  nurses  his  hate,  and  how 
it  blossoms  into  misery  for  those  on  whom  he  bestows  it." 

Laura's  eyes  filled  with  tears,  and  her  voice  faltered.  "  I 
did  learn  it  from  her  martyrdom  ;  but  she  was  not  like  me. 
She  submitted  where  I  would  resist." 

"  Resistance  will  only  increase  the  bitterness  of  your  punish- 
ment, and  once  more  I  warn  you  not  to  make  friends  of  my 
enemies,  and  hot  to  offer  slights  to  my  friends.  The  Marquis 
de  Strozzi  wishes  to  marry  you  ;  your  father  is  anxious  for  the 
match — so  am  I,  and  you  shall  marry  the  marquis,  of  that  be 
assured.  He  has  asked  you  to  dance,  to-night,  and  you  shall 
dance  with  him,  too.  This  plea  of  an  engagement  is  a  false- 
hood.    Where  is  your  partner  ? " 

"  I  will  remind  him  of  our  engagement,  now  that  I  am  pre- 
pared to  fulfil  mine,"  answered  Laura.  And,  yielding  to  an 
impulse  of  aversion  to  Barbesieur,  resolved  to  give  him  then 
and  there  proof  unquestionable  of  her  contempt ;  impelled, 
too,  by  an  enthusiastic  longing  to  sympathize  with  one  whom 
all  had  united  to  slight,  and  forgetful  of  the  social  restraints 
which  it  is  always  unwise  for  a  woman  to  overleap,  Laura 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  BEDCHAMBER.        141 

pressed  through  the  crowds  that  were  assembling  for  the  dance, 
and  stepped  so  proudly  by,  that  all  wondered  at  the  solemn 
earnestness  of  her  mien,  more  resembling  that  of  a  priestess 
than  of  a  young  maiden  at  her  first  ball. 

If  all  other  eyes  were  gazing  upon  her,  those  of  Eugene 
were  riveted  upon  her  advancing  figure  with  mingled  rapture 
and  wonder.  He  had  long  since  forgotten  the  rudeness  of  the 
king  and  the  contumely  of  his  courtiers.  Laura^s  image  filled 
his  heart,  and  left  no  space  therein  for  painful  emotions.  He 
had  watched  her  countenance  while  Barbesieur  had  been 
speaking  to  her,  and  had  guessed  that  their  colloquy  was  any- 
thing but  friendly.  He  had  seen  her  turn  suddenly  away,  and 
now  she  came  neai*er  and  nearer,  until  her  dazzled  worshipper 
lost  all  sense  of  time  and  place,  and  his  enfranchised  soul  went 
out  to  meet  hers. 

But  at  last  she  came  so  near,  that  he  wakened  from  his  ec- 
stasy, and  remembered  that  he  had  nothing  in  common  with 
that  high-bom  girl ;  for,  shame  had  fallen  upon  his  house,  and 
royalty  had  turned  its  back  upon  him. 

But  he  had  scarcely  time  to  pass  from  heaven  to  earth  be- 
fore she  stood  directly  before  him,  her  starry  eyes  uplifted 
to  meet  his,  her  sweet  voice  drowning  his  senses  in  melody. 

"  Prince,"  said  she,  in  clear,  self-possessed  tones  that  attract- 
ed the  attention  of  those  immediately  around,  "it  appears 
that  you  have  forgotten  the  engagement  you  made  to  dancv 
with  me  this  evening.    Pardon  me  if  I  recall  it  to  you." 

So  saying,  she  extended  her  little  hand  to  Eugene,  who,  be- 
wildered witii  joy,  was  almost  afraid  to  touch  the  delicate  em- 
broidered glove  that  lay  so  temptingly  near  his.  He  was 
afraid  that  he  had  gone  mad.  But  Laura  smiled,  and  came  a 
step  nearer  ;  whereupon  he  gave  himself  up  to  the  intoxicat- 
ing dream,  and  led  her  away  to  the  dance. 

They  took  their  place  among  the  others,  but  the  dancers 
looked  upon  them  with  glances  of  uneasiness  and  displeasure. 
How  were  they  to  know  that  they  might  not  be  compromised 
by  their  vicinity  to  an  ostracized  man,  and  how  did  they  know 
that  the  king  was  not  observing  them,  to  see  how  they  would 
receive  this  bold  intruder  t 

They  might  have  spared  themselves  all  anxiety  ;  for,  in  the 


14:2  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMEa 

first  place,  tlie  king  was  in  another  room,  at  tlie  card- tables 
and,  in  the  second  place,  their  sensitive  loyalty  was  soon  re- 
lieved from  its  perplexities. 

As  a  matter  of  course,  Laura's  generous  indiscretion  had 
been  witnessed  by  Barbesieur  ;  not  only  by  him,  however,  but 
by  her  father  and  the  Duchess  of  Orleans.  Barbesieur,  en- 
raged, would  have  followed,  and  torn  her  violently  away,  but 
Louvois'  hand  was  laid  upon  his  shoulder,  and  Louvois'  voice 
{imperious  even  in  a  whisper)  bade  him  remain. 

"  No  eclat,  my  son  :  we  are  the  guests  of  his  majesty.'* 

"  But  I  cannot  brook  her  insolence,"  muttered  Barbesieur, 
in  return.  "  She  is  my  sister,  and  before  she  shall  dance  with 
a  man  that  has  insulted  me,  I  will  fell  him  to  the  earth,  were 
the  king  at  my  side  to  witness  it." 

"Be  quiet,  I  command  you,  or  you  shall  sleep  to-night 
within  the  walls  of  the  Bastile,"  was  the  reply.  "  God  knows 
that  you  ought  to  avoid  notoriety  ;  for,  your  affair  with  Prince 
Eugene  has  not  covered  you  with  glory.  Retire,  then,  if  you 
cannot  control  yourself,  and  I  will  find  means  to  put  an  end 
to  this  foolish  demonstration  of  your  sister." 

The  means  were  at  hand ;  they  were  concentrated  in  the 
person  of  his  royal  highness  the  Duke  of  Orleans.  He  had 
been  about  to  join  the  dance,  when  he,  too,  witnessed  the  ter- 
rible sight  of  Laura  de  Bonaletta  standing  at  the  side  of  the 
little  abbe  of  Savoy  ! 

With  a  hasty  apology  to  his  partner,  the  Duchess  de  Chev- 
reuse,  he  strode  away  and  joined  madame.  Elizabeth-Char- 
lotte saw  him  coming  and  heaved  a  sigh. 

"  Now  for  a  tempest  in  a  teapot ! "  thought  she.  "  To  be 
sure,  the  anger  of  my  lord  is  not  much  like  that  of  a  thunder- 
ing Jove  ;  yet  I  don't  know  but  what  it  is  better  to  be  struck 
dead  by  lightning,  than  to  live  forever  within  sound  of  the 
scolding  tongue  of  a  fishwife  !  I  must  try,  however,  to  be 
conciliatory  in  my  tones,  or  poor  Laura  will  get  into  trouble." 

So  she  smiled  as  graciously  as  she  could,  but  her  affability 
was  lost  upon  the  duke.     He  was  in  a  towering  passion. 

"  Madame,"  said  he,  in  a  low,  but  snappish  voice,  "  do  you 
know  that  your  lady  of  the  bedchamber  is  dancing  with  the 
Prince  of  Savoy  ? " 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  BEDCHAMBER.        I43 

The  duchess  turned  around,  as  if  to  see  whether  Laura  were 
not  at  her  post.  "  True  enough,"  replied  she,  "  she  is  not  here. 
I  was  so  absorbed  in  my  conversation  with  the  queen  that  I 
had  not  missed  her.  I  suppose  she  thought  I  could  spare  her 
for  a  while,  and  so  allowed  herself  to  be  persuaded  to 
dance." 

"  But  when  I  tell  you  that  she  is  dancing  with  Prince  Eu- 
gene ! — with  the  son  of  the  Countess  de  Soissons  I "  cried  the 
duke,  impatiently. 

''  I  understand  your  highness.  The  prince  is  in  disgrace, 
and  has  the  plague.  But  you  must  pardon  my  little  marchion- 
ess, for  she  is  new  to  court  customs,  and  does  not  know  how 
contagious  is  her  partner's  malady.  She  will  learn  prudence, 
all  in  good  time,  and,  perchance,  become  as  obse — I  mean  as 
discreet— as  the  rest  of  us." 

''  You  will  be  so  good  as  to  begin  her  education  at  once,  by 
reproving  her  sharply  for  her  indecorous  behavior  here  to- 
night," said  the  duke,  beginning  to  stammer. 

"When  he  stammers,"  thought  his  wife,  ''he  is  in  a  rage. 
I  had  better  try  the  effect  of  soft  words.  What  would  your 
highness  have  me  say  ? "  added  she  aloud. 

"  I  would  have  you  send  a  peremptory  message  to  the  mar- 
chioness to  quit  the  dance  immediately  ;  and,  if  she  does  not 
obey,  I  would  have  you  go  yourself  and — " 

"  My  dear  lord,"  whispered  madame,  laying  the  weight  of 
her  hand  upon  monsieur's  arm,  "  do  you  forget  that  she  is  the 
daughter  of  Louvois,  and  that  we  dare  not  affront  her  lightly  ? 
And  have  you  forgotten  that  her  father  has  promised  to  obtain 
for  you,  from  his  majesty,  the  woods  of  St.  Germain.  In  ac- 
cordance with  your  desire  and  that  of  her  father,  who  is  power- 
ful enough  to  command  everybody  at  this  court,  I  have  taken 
this  yoimg  girl  into  my  service  since  this  morning.  Would 
you  undo  what  I  have  done  for  your  advantage  ? " 

**  But  it  is  an  outrage,"  murmured  the  duke,  somewhat  paci- 
fied.    "  It  is  an  outrage  against  his  majesty." 

**  I  will  put  an  end  to  the  outrage  then,  but  I  will  do  so  by 
gentle  means.— My  Lord  Marquis  de  Valmy,  I  am  suffering 
terribly  with  a  migraine,  and  am  conipellod  to  retire.  Will 
you  b€»r  my  apology  to  the  Marchioness  de  Bonaletta,  and  aay 


144  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

that  I  regret  to  be  obliged  to  interrupt  her  pleasures,  but  must 
request  her  attendance." 

The  marquis  hastened  away  with  his  message,  and  just  as 
Prince  Eugene  had  so  far  recovered  himself  as  to  be  able  to 
address  a  few  murmured  words  of  thanks  to  his  beautiful  part- 
ner, just  as  she  was  looking  bashfully  into  his  face,  and  had 
seen  that  his  large  black  eyes  were  moistened  with  tears,  she 
heard  a  voice  at  her  side  : 

''Madame  is  suddenly  indisposed,  and  regrets  to  say  that 
she  requires  the  attendance  of  the  Marchioness  de  Bonaletta. 
Her  highness  is  sorry  to  be  obliged  to  interrupt  you,  mademoi- 
seUe." 

"  I  will  have  the  honor  of  conducting  mademoiselle  to  her 
highness,"  replied  Eugene,  regaining  in  a  moment  all  his  self- 
possession. 

Laura  had  just  laid  her  arm  within  his,  when  monsieur  ap- 
proached with  most  undignified  haste. 

"  Give  me  your  arm,  mademoiselle,"  said  he.  "  Her  high- 
ness has  requested  me  to  accompany  you  to  her  seat." 

And  without  a  word  or  look  significative  of  his  knowledge 
that  Eugene  was  nigh,  the  duke  placed  Laura's  other  arm 
within  his  own,  and  stalked  away. 

The  prince  left  the  dancers,  and  retired  again  to  his  window- 
seat.  He  was  pale  with  the  shock  of  his  sudden  disappoint- 
ment, but  was  callous  to  the  fresh  insult  offered  him  by  the 
king's  brother.  Still  less  was  he  conscious  of  the  titter  that 
was  going  around  at  his  expense,  or  of  the  scornful  looks 
directed  to  him  from  the  eyes  of  many  who  until  that  day  had 
called  themselves  his  friends.  He  had  neither  eyes,  ears,  nor 
understanding,  for  any  creature  but  the  one  who  had  braved 
the  ridicule  of  the  court,  and  the  displeasure  of  its  sovereign, 
to  show  her  sympathy  with  a  man  in  adversity.  He  must — he 
would  seeiher  again  I  He  must  thank  her  for  her  magnanim- 
ity, let  the  consequences  be  what  they  would  I 

He  darted  forward  toward  the  door  through  which  the 
Duke  and  Duchess  of  Orleans  were  passing,  with  their  suite. 
On  the  stairway  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  Laura's  white  satin 
dress,  and  one  look  at  her  beautiful  face.  He  made  a  des- 
perate effort  to  follow,  but  before  he  could  put  his  foot  on  the 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  BEDCHAMBER.        145 

top  step,  the  Duke  of  Orleans  and  his  suite,  returning  to  the 
ballroom,  stopped  the  way. 

**Too  late  I  too  late  ! "  groaned  Eugene.  "But  I  will  see 
her  again,  if  it  costs  me  my  life  I " 

Hie  carriage  of  madame,  meanwhile,  was  rolling  home- 
ward. She  and  her  attendant  were  seated  opposite  each  other, 
both  keeping  a  profound  silence.  At  length  Laura  could  bear 
it  no  longer.  Gliding  fi*om  her  seat,  and  kneeling  at  the  feet 
of  the  duchess,  she  took  her  hand  and  pressed  it  to  her  lips. 

''  Dear  lady,"  sobbed  she,  passionately,  "  have  I  done  wrong  f 
If  I  have,  reprove  me  ;  but  speak.  Your  silence  is  harder  ta 
bear  than  rebuke." 

The  duchess,  no  longer  able  to  keep  up  her  affected  dis- 
pleasure, put  her  arms  around  the  young  girl,  and  kissed  her 
forehead.  ''  I  certainly  ought  to  reprove  you,"  said  she,  "  for 
your  conduct  has  been  almost  unmaidenly,  but  I  have  not  the 
heart  to  chide  you  for  indiscretion  that  springs  from  the  over- 
flowing of  a  generous  nature.  You  have  violated  every  rule 
of  etiquette  and  decorum  ;  but  what  would  you  ?  I  am  the 
least  conventional  of  beings  myself  ;  and,  instead  of  condemn- 
ing you,  I  positively  admire  your  impropriety.  You  have 
raised  a  tempest  about  your  ears,  child  ;  but  I  will  do  my  beet 
to  defend  you  against  the  king,  monsieur,  and  the  censorious 
world.  Against  your  father  and  your  brother  you  can  defend 
yourself." 

"  They  may  think  of  me  whatever  they  please,"  cried  Laura, 
joyfully.  "I  shall  not  defend  myself  against  anybody,  for 
you  are  not  displeased,  and  he  I — oh,  I  believe  that  I  conferred 
upon  him  one  moment  of  happiness  I  *' 

"He!    Who?    Of  whom  do  you  speak?" 

"  Of  Prince  Eugene,"  murmured  Laura,  blushing. 

"  Prince  Eugene  1 "  echoed  the  duchess. 

"Yes,"  exclaimed  she,  passionately,  "of  him,  the  noble, 
brave  knight,  who,  like  another  St.  George,  sets  his  foot  upon 
the  dragon  of  this  world^s  wickedness,  and  towers  above  its 
miserable  worshippers,  like  an  archangel ! " 

"  Great  Heavens  I  what  has  possessed  the  girl  ? "  exclaimed 
the  duchess.  "  She  speaks  of  that  little  abbe  as  if  he  were  ao 
impersonation  of  manly  beauty  I  *' 


146  PRINCE   EUGENE  AND   HIS   TIMES. 

"  And  so  lie  is  !  His  eyes  are  aflame  with  the  light  of  a  no- 
ble  soul,  and  his  face  is  as  that  of  a  demi-god  ! " 

"  A  demi-god  ! "  cried  madame,  clasping  her  hands.  *'  I  do 
believe  she  has  fallen  in  love  with  him  ! " 

Laura  buried  her  face  in  the  folds  of  the  duchess's  dress. 
'*  Pray  for  me,  dear  lady,"  sobbed  she  ;  "  pray  for  me.  Never 
would  my  father  consent  to  bestow  my  hand  upon  the  son  of 
the  Countess  de  Soissons,  and  1 1 — oh,  if  I  should  love  him,  I 
would  forsake  the  whole  world  for  his  sake.  Alas  !  alas  !  I 
believe  that  he  is  lord  and  sovereign  of  my  heart,  for  it  bounds 
to  meet  his,  as  though  it  felt  that  he  was  master  of  its  destiny  I " 


CHAPTER  Vni. 

FIRST  LOVE. 

Four  days  had  elapsed  since  the  ball,  and  its  events,  tri- 
umphs, and  contrarieties  were  already  forgotten.  Nobody  be- 
stowed a  thought  upon  Prince  Eugene,  who,  concealed  from 
view  by  the  thick  cloud  of  the  king's  dislike,  had  fallen  into 
complete  oblivion. 

Nobody  said  a  word  about  the  ignominious  punishment 
administered  to  Barbesieur  de  Louvois,  for  the  king  had  treated 
him  with  consideration ;  and  his  majesty's  countenance  had 
healed  his  stripes,  and  cured  his  wounded  honor.  So  that 
Barbesieur  de  Louvois  was  greeted  with  the  courtesy  due  to  a 
noble  knight,  and  Eugene  of  Savoy  was  spurned  as  a  base-born 
churl. 

Was  it  for  this  that  he  was  so  pale,  so  silent,  and  so  shy  ? 
Was  it  for  this  that  he  sat  alone  in  his  room  for  hours,  mur- 
muring words  of  passionate  tenderness,  and  extending  his 
arms  to  heaven,  as  if  he  expected'  some  seraph  to  visit  him  in 
his  desolate  home  ?  Was  it  for  this  that  by  night  he  paced 
the  length  of  a  garden- wall,  and  stood  with  folded  arms  before 
its  trellised  gates  ?  Had  sorrow  and  slight  unsettled  his  rea- 
son? 

If  they  had,  there  was  "  method  in  his  madness,"  for  his 


FIRST  LOVE.  147 

>tep6  were  ever  directed  toward  the  same  place,  the  hotel  of  the 
Duke  of  Orleans. 

On  this  fourth  day  after  the  ball,  at  dusk,  Eugene  left  the 
Hotel  de  Soissons,  and  took  the  way,  as  usual,  toward  the  Pa- 
lais Royal.  Its  long  faQade  was  dimly  lighted,  and  every 
thing  within  seemed  hushed. 

**  I  am  fortunate,"  thought  he  ;  "  the  duchess  has  dismissed 
her  attendants,  and  she  has  retired  to  the  pavilion." 

He  continued  his  way  along  the  side -wing  of  the  palace, 
until  he  arrived  at  the  garden  which  occupied  the  space  now 
contained  between  the  Rue  Vivienne  and  the  Bourse.  This 
magnificent  garden  was  refreshed  by  plashing  fountains,  and 
decorated  by  noble  trees  and  gay  parterres  ;  but  it  was  encom- 
passed by  a  high  stone  wall,  of  which  the  summit  was  defend- 
ed by  short  iron  spikes  whose  uplifted  points  gave  warning  to 
all  passers-by  that  intrusion  into  this  paradise  was  attended 
with  danger. 

But  what  cares  love  for  "  stony  limits,"  or  when  did  danger 
ever  intimidate  a  stout  heart  ? 

Eugene  was  nov7  at  the  extreme  end  of  the  garden.  The 
deep,  unbroken  stillness  of  solitude  reigned  around.  At  times, 
and  at  a  distance,  was  heard  the  faint  rumbling  of  a  coach  ; 
but  otherwise  nothing  interrupted  the  loneliness  of  the  place 
and  the  hour.  For,  although  nine  o'clock  had  just  sounded 
from  the  tower  of  St.  Jacques,  all  Paris  was  at  rest,  save  the 
few  aristocrats  who  were  on  their  way  to  balls  and  banquets, 
or  the  houseless  wretches  who,  with  their  dark  lanterns,  were 
searching  the  gutters  for  a  lost  penny. 

So  that  Eugene  was  unobserved,  and  had  full  opportunity 
to  draw  from  his  cloak  a  package  which  proved  to  be  a  rope- 
ladder  of  silk  ;  to  unroll,  and  fling  it  over  the  garden  wall.  It 
caught  in  the  prongs,  and  in  a  few  moments  he  was  within 
the  enchanted  walls  of  the  palace  where  Laura  de  Bonaletta 
dwelt 

She  was  alone  in  her  pavilion,  in  the  room  which  led  into 
the  garden,  and  its  glass  doors  now  stood  wide  open.  She  had 
thrown  aside  her  court-dress,  and  was  now  attired  in  a  white 
peignior  edged  with  delicate  lace.  Her  feet  were  encased  in 
slippers  of  blue  satin  embroidered  with  silver,  and  her  hair, 


148  PRINCE  EUGENE   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

stripped  of  all  ornament,  was  twisted  into  a  coronal  around 
her  graceful  head. 

She  had  dismissed  her  attendants,  and  sat  beside  a  table  oi 
white  marble,  holding  in  her  hand  a  book  which  she  seemed 
to  read — yet  not  to  read.  She  turned  its  pages,  and  her  eyes 
were  fixed  upon  them,  but  little  saw  Laura  of  their  contents, 
she  was  looking  into  another  book,  the  book  of  her  own  heart ; 
and  mysterious  were  the  pages  thereof,  half  painful,  half  pleas- 
ant, to  peruse. 

Around  her  all  was  silent.  From  time  to  time  the  night 
wind  sighed  through  the  branches  of  the  trees  without,  and  a 
few  sorrowing  leaves  fell  rustling  to  the  ground,  while  she, 
her  book  now  laid  aside,  and  her  pretty  hands  folded  in  her 
lap,  gazed  and  gazed  at  sky  and  earth,  at  moonlit  paths,  and 
darkly  looming  trees,  but  saw  nothing  of  them  all.  Some- 
thing broke  the  perfect  stillness.  It  was  neither  summer 
breeze,  nor  rustling  leaf  ;  'twas  the  crackling  gravel  that  was 
being  displaced  by  approaching  footsteps.  The  sound  was  all 
unheeded  by  Laura,  who  heard  nothing  but  the  voice  of  her 
heart  as  it  sang  its  first  anthem  of  love. 

The  moon  emerged  from  a  silver  cloud,  and  Eugene's  figure 
darkened  the  threshold.  For  one  moment  he  contemplated 
the  beautiful  picture  before  him,  then  with  noiseless  steps  he 
approached  and  knelt  at  her  feet. 

"  Kill  me  for  my  presumption,"  whispered  he,  "  for  I  de- 
serve death.  But  I  would  rather  die  at  your  feet  than  live  an- 
other hour  out  of  your  sight." 

Laura  spoke  not  a  word  in  return,  but  neither  did  she  cry 
out  in  terror  or  surprise.  She  merely  gazed  at  Eugene  with 
distended  eyes,  whose  mysterious  expressions  he  dreaded  to  in- 
terpret. 

A  feeling  of  anguish  inexpressible  pervaded  his  being.  "  I 
thought  so,"  murmured  he,  bitterly.  "  I  thought  so  ;  and 
yet  I  could  not  have  done  otherwise.  Had  I  known  that  I 
was  to  be  racked  for  my  temerity,  I  must  have  sought  you, 
alone  and  unattended — sought  you  as  I  would  my  Maker, 
when  no  curious  eye  was  upon  me  to  see  my  tears,  no  mock- 
ing tongue  to  echo  my  sighs  ;  but  when,  unfettered  by  the 
bonds  of  a  conventional  world,  I  was  free  to  pour  out  the 


FIRST  LOVE.  149 

oceans  of  love  that  are  drowning  me  in  their  sweetness  ;  and 
then  I — to  live  or  die,  as  you  should  determine.  I  love  you  ! 
Do  you  hear  ?  I  love  you  !  And  with  such  strength  of  love, 
that  if  I  am  unworthy  ;  if,  poor,  ill-favored,  unfortunate,  the 
Prince  of  Savoy  may  not  aspire  to  your  hand,  then  call  your 
people,  and  drive  me  hence  ;  for  whether  you  welcome  or 
whether  you  spurn,  you  still  must  hear  me,  while  my  yearning 
heart  cries  out  for  judgment.  Speak,  beloved  !  I  await  my 
sentence — is  it  life  or  death  ? " 

He  raised  his  pleading  eyes  to  hers,  and  as  they  met,  her 
beautiful  head  drooped  lower  and  lower,  until  it  almost 
touched  his  own.  He  felt  the  soft  touch  of  her  hands  upon 
his  shoulders,  and  heard  the  thrilling  accents  of  her  trem- 
bling voice,  as,  in  tones  so  inaudible  that  none  but  a  lover's 
ear  could  have  guessed  their  sweet  import,  she  whispered  these 
words  : 

"  I  was  waiting  for  thee." 

With  a  wild  cry  of  rapture,  Eugene  caught  her  to  his 
heart,  and  imprinted  one  long,  loving  kiss  upon  her  lips. 
Then  he  gazed  upon  her  with  an  expression  of  passionate  ten- 
derness, which  transfigured  his  homely  features  and  lent  them 
beauty. 

"  Say  that  thou  lovest  me,"  cried  he,  "  oh,  say  it  again — 
again — again." 

'*I  love  thee,"  rex)eated  Laura,  "I  love  thee,  Eugene. 
When  first  our  eyes  met,  I  knew  that  my  heart  had  found  its 
sovereign.  Oh,  sweet  vassalage,  that  never  again  will  seek 
enfranchisement !  Oh,  happy  bondage,  than  liberty  more  pre- 
cious !  Bondage  that  makes  me  thine,  and  thou  mine  for- 
ever!" 

**  Ay,  forever  ! "  echoed  Eugene,  while  tears  streamed  from 
his  eyes  at  sound  of  her  delicious  avowal.  "We  love  each 
other  I  Oh,  my  Laura,  what  magic  in  those  blessed  words  I 
We  love  each  other  !  I  could  weary  echo  with  repetition  of 
the  sound  :  We  I  'Tls  the  first  time  in  my  life  that  ray  name 
has  ever  been  joined  with  that  of  a  fellow-being.  My  broth- 
ers, who  enjoyed  the  privileges  of  their  birth  and  rank,  looked 
down  with  contempt  upon  one  who  was  condemned  to  the  ob- 
scurity of  the  priesthood  ;  my  young  sisters  feared  me,  and  I 


150  PRINCE  EUGENE   AND    HIS  TIMES. 

was  too  shy  to  ask  for  their  love  ;  in  my  proud  and  beautiful 
mother's  heart  there  was  no  room  for  the  son,  to  whom  fate 
had  allotted  no  share  of  her  loveliness  and  grace.  Alone  in  the 
midst  of  a  family  circle,  alone  in  society,  alone  in  the  world,  I 
thrust  back  into  my  sorrowing  soul  the  hopes,  the  loves,  the 
aspirations  of  youth,  and  refused  to  listen  to  their  pleadings. 
But  in  the  depths  of  the  night,  when  no  mortal  was  by,  and 
I  stood  alone  in  the  presence  of  God,  I  called  them  up,  and 
bade  them  weep  with  me  that  life  and  light  were  denied  them. 
I  mourned,  and  prayed  for  deliverance,  but  no  friendly  voice 
ever  bade  me  be  comforted.  And  so  I  lived,  shunned  and  de- 
spised by  my  fellows." 

"  No,  no,  my  Eugene,  not  shunned  and  despised,"  exclaimed 
Laura,  while  her  gentle  hands  wiped  away  the  tears  that  were 
streaming  down  her  lover's  cheeks.  "  You  belie  yourself  and 
the  world.     It  may  not  love  you,  but  it  has  divined  your  worth.  '* 

Eugene  answered  with  a  faint  smile.  "  My  worth  is  small, 
beloved  ;  but  no  human  being  has  ever  divined  the  secrets  of 
my  ambitious  heart.  But  ah  !  how  changed  is  life  to  me  to- 
night !  I  went  to  that  ball  to  throw  down  the  gauntlet  of  my 
hate  before  Louvois  and  his  son.  I  was  rebuked  by  the  king, 
slighted  by  his  nobles  ;  but  I  had  no  eyes  to  see,  no  pride  to 
resent  their  insults.  When  I  saw  thee,  the  sun  shone  upon 
my  heart,  and  there  was  light  and  love  within.  But  oh  !  when 
thou  camest  so  near  that  I  felt  the  perfume  of  thy  breath  upon 
my  cheek,  and  the  touch  of  thy  hand  within  my  hand,  then  I 
was  bom  again  to  a  life  of  hope  and  happiness.  My  soul's 
better  half  was  found,  and  nevermore  shall  it  wander  from 
my  side.  I  am  here  at  thy  feet  to  ask  thee  for  my  wife.  I 
have  neither  wealth  nor  repute  to  offer  thee  :  I  am  a  poor  ap- 
panagist,  a  prince  without  fortune  or  distinction.  But,  dear- 
est, if  thou  wilt  be  mine,  I  swear  by  all  the  imprisoned  aspira- 
tions which  thy  coming  has  liberated,  that  the  wife  of  Eugene 
of  Savoy  shall  have  pride  in  her  husband  !  Be  mine,  be  mine, 
and  I  will  make  thy  name  illustrious  !  " 

*'I  am  thine,"  said  Laura,  fervently,  "for  time  and  for 
eternity.  I  care  not  whether  thy  name  be  obscure  or  thy  for- 
tunes adverse  ;  I  love  thee  as  thou  art. "  And  so  saying,  she 
extended  her  hand. 


FIRST  LOVE.  152 

He  grasped  it  in  his  own  and  covered  it  with  rapturous 
kisses.  "  From  this  blissful  hour,  then,  thou  art  my  betrothed  ; 
and  to-morrow  I  shall  ask  the  consent  of  madame  to  our  mar- 
riage. Or  hast  thou  relatives  whom  I  must  know  and  propi- 
tiate?" 

At  this  innocent  question,  Laura's  youth  and  animal  spir- 
its got  the  better  of  her  sentiment.  She  laughed  heartily. 
**  What  I "  cried  she,  "  you  do  not  know  who  I  am  ? " 

"  No,  sweetest ;  I  know  not,  I  care  not  who  thou  art.  What 
have  I  to  do  with  thy  surroundings  ?  I  love  thee — only  thee. 
If  thou  hast  father  and  mother,  I  will  throw  myself  at  their 
feet^  and  beg  their  blessing  for  us  both." 

Laura's  hilarity  had  all  vanished.  As  Eugene  had  spoken  of 
her  father  and  mother,  her  cheeks  had  blanched,  and  the  smile 
had  died  from  the  rosy  lips.  "  Alas  ! "  cried  she,  clasping  her 
hands,  *'  he  knows  not  who  I  am  !  " 

"  I  know  thou  art  an  angel,  and  that  is  enough  to  make  me 
the  happiest  of  men." 

"  True,  true,"  murmured  Laura.  "  When  my  grandmother 
retired  from  court,  he  was  but  a  boy." 

"  And  had  I  been  a  man,  what  to  me  are  the  comings  and 
goings  of  the  ladies  of  the  court  ? "  said  Eugene,  simply.  "  But 
why  art  thou  troubled,  my  beloved  ? " 

"  Alas  !  alas  1 "  murmured  Laura,  her  eyes  filling  with  tears. 
**  May  God  grant  that  you  spoke  the  truth,  Eugene  de  Carignan^ 
when  you  said  that  you  cared  not  who  was  my  father  or  my 
mother  1 " 

"  So  help  me  Heaven,  I  do  not  care  I  "  was  the  fervent  re- 
sponse, while  he  gazed  passionately  upon  his  new-found  treas- 
ure. 

She  bent  her  head,  and  lowered  her  voice  to  a  whisper, 
"Eugene,"  said  she,  almost  gasping  for  breath,  "I  bear  my 
mother's  name  ;  but  I  am  the  daughter  of  your  bitterest  ene- 
my, Louvois." 

Eugene  started  back  in  horror.  "  Louvois  !  Louvois  I " 
echoed  he,  mournfully.     *'  And  Barbesieur,  her  brother  1 " 

"  Not  my  own  brother,"  cried  Laura,  terrified  at  the  effect 
of  her  revelation.     **  Before  I  had  seen  you,  I  approved  your 
act,  and  bade  Gkxl  bless  the  son  that  had  avenged  his  mother'^ 
11 


152  PRIXCE   EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

wrongs  upon  her  traducer.  Ah,  Eugene  !  my  affianced,  ;say 
that  you  do  not  hate  me  !  I  knew  that  you  were  the  son  of 
the  Countess  de  Soissons,  and  yet  I  loved  you ! — perhaps  th© 
more,  that  Barbesieur  was  your  enemy." 

"  And  I  love  ?/ow,  my  own  one,  despite  your  parentage.  I 
love  you  so  far  beyond  all  feelings  of  pride  or  enmity,  that  I 
am  ready  to  humble  myself  before  my  mother's  enemy,  and  be 
to  him  a  son." 

"  He  will  never  receive  you  as  such,"  cried  she,  bitterly. 
*'  Woe  is  me,  if  he  should  learn  what  has  transpired  to-night 
between  us  !    He  would  part  us  by  force." 

"  Part  us  he  shall  not ! "  exclaimed  Eugene,  passionately, 
while  he  flung  his  arm  around  the  maiden's  slender  waist,  and 
pressed  her  wildly  to  his  heart.  "  Thou  art  Louvois'  daughter, 
but  my  betrothed." 

"  I  am  Barbesieur's  sister,  but  thou  art  my  affianced  ! " 

"  Neither  daughter  nor  sister  of  any  man,  my  Laura  ;  thou 
art  thyself — and  being  thyself — mine." 

"Thine  for  life  and  death,"  was  her  reply,  "and  from  this 
hour  I  know  no  will  of  mine." 

"  Then,  ere  thy  father  suspects  our  love,  it  must  be  sancti- 
fied before  the  altar  of  God.  Our  faith  once  plighted  there,  no 
hand  of  mortal  can  wrest  thee  from  my  side.  Art  ready  to 
speak  the  irrevocable  words  that  bind  us  together  as  man  and 
Wife?" 

"  I  am  ready,"  replied  she,  clasping  her  hands,  and  looking 
solemnly  up  to  heaven.  "If,  in  my  eager  acquiescence,  I  seem 
unmaidenly,  forgive  me  ;  but  I  dare  not  be  coy,  Eugene  ;  we 
have  no  time  for  conventional  reserve,  and  I  must  act  as  be- 
comes a  brave  and  trusting  woman,  for  every  moment  is 
fraught  with  danger.  I  am  surrounded  by  spies,  even  of  my 
own  household,  and,  until  I  hear  the  blessing  of  the  priest,  I 
shall  disbelieve  my  own  happiness." 

"  Then  hear  me,  dearest.  I  know  how  crafty  are  the  spies 
of  Louvois,  and  I  tremble  lest  the  whispering  breeze  betray 
our  secret.  Yes,  we  must  be  diligent,  so  diligent  that  Fate  shall 
stand  between  our  love  and  all  contingency.  For  two  days 
I  shall  part  from  thee— long  days  that  will  steep  my  soul  in 
•darkness  I    But  day  after  to-morrow,  at  this  same  hour  of  the 


FIRST  LOVR  153 

evening,  I  shall  be  here  with  the  chaplain  of  the  Princess  de 
Cari^an,  an  old  and  dear  friend,  who  will  bless  our  bridal.  As 
witnesses,  I  will  be  accompanied  by  my  kinsmen,  the  Princes 
de  Conti,  two  of  the  worthiest  nobles  of  France.  Be  in  readi- 
ness, my  best  beloved,  that  not  a  word  need  be  spoken  until 
we  are  married.  Then  away  with  me  to  the  Hotel  de  Sois- 
sons,  where  those  who  love,  may  seek  thee  in  thy  husband's 
home." 

"  So  soon  ? "  murmured  Laura,  blushing.  "  Shall  I  leave 
my  dear  mistress  without  a  word  ?  Is  8?ie  not  to  share  our 
secret  ? " 

"  Assuredly  not ;  for  it  would  burden  her  with  a  painful  re- 
sponsibility. It  would  be  her  duty  to  betray  you,  artless 
child." 

"  Oh,  I  will  not  speak  ! "  exclaimed  Laura,  eagerly.  "  I 
will  be  silent ;  and  when — when  we  are  married,  we  will  beg 
so  humbly  for  forgiveness  that  she  will  have  to  grant  it." 

"You  must  leave  a  note  declaring  everything  ;  for  with  our 
marriage  ends  all  secrecy.  I  will  neither  see  you  nor  write 
until  the  appointed  time.  Dismiss  your  household  as  early  as 
possible,  and,  if  all  is  propitious,  place  a  light  in  yonder  win- 
dow. If  I  see  it,  I  will  enter  with  the  priest,  and,  lest  there 
should  be  interruption,  he  will  begin  the  ceremony  at  once." 

"  Alas,  Eugene  ! "  said  Laura,  looking  anxiously  around, 
"some  evil  spirit  is  about.  It  whispers  me  that  this  shall 
never  be  I  Speak  to  me — in  mercy  speak  1  Let  me  hear  thy 
voice,  for  even  now  its  sinister  threaten  ings  are  freezing  the 
blood  in  my  veins  !  " 

"  Nay,  sweet  one,  fear  nothing !  My  love  shall  compass  thee 
with  a  charm  that  shall  keep  away  all  evil  spirits,  and  make 
thy  life  a  waking  dream  of  bliss." 

"  How  can  I  ever  prove  to  thee  how  much  I  love  thee  ? " 

"  Thou  wilt  prove  it  to  me  when,  day  after  to-morrow,  thou 
forsakest  father  and  brother,  to  cleave  to  me  alone  ;  for  never 
will  my  mother's  son  take  the  hand  of  Barbesieur  Louvois." 

"Nor  my  mother's  daughter,"  cried  Laura,  vehemently, 
"  for  she,  too,  has  a  debt  of  hatred  to  pay  to  the  man  who  broke 
that  mother's  heart.  And  believe  me,  our  marriage  will 
ATenge  us  both  ;  for  it  will  end  his  contemptible  intrigues  to 


154  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

sell  my  hand  to  whomsoever  chinks  most  gold  in  his.    And 
now,  dear  Eugene,  good-night  !  " 

"  Must  I  be  exiled  so  soon,  Laura  ?  What  have  I  done  to 
be  thus  driven  from  paradise  ? " 

"  Nothing — nothing,"  stammered  she.  "  But  my  mother's 
name  has  made  me  fear  that — that  I  am  wrong  to  hold  such 
long  parley  with  you  in  secret  and  at  night.  Methinks  I  see 
that  mother's  pleading  eyes  before  me,  and  oh,  Eugene  !  when- 
ever they  rest  upon  me  thus,  'tis  because  danger  threatens  I 
Go,  beloved,  and  God  be  with  you  !  " 

"I  go,"  sighed  he.  "I  would  not  stay  one  moment  to 
wound  your  sweet  scruples,  my  madonna.  One  more  kiss, 
and  then — good-night  !  " 

They  walked  side  by  side  until  they  stood  upon  the  thresh- 
old. Eugene  put  his  arm  around  her  waist,  and  kissed  her 
fair  brow. 

"Look,"  said  she,  "at  yonder  star  that  is  just  emerging 
from  a  fleecy  cloud.  It  soars  joyously  upward  now,  and  shall 
be  to  us  an  omen  of  hope  and  happiness.     Farewell." 

"  Farewell  ! "  was  the  sad  response,  and  Eugene  went  slow- 
ly down  the  dark  avenue,  until  he  was  lost  in  the  gloom  of 
night.  Laura  lingered  for  a  while,  listening  to  his  footsteps, 
then  resumed  her  seat  at  the  table. 

A  half  hour  went  by,  and  Laura  sought  her  chamber.  To 
her  surprise  she  found  her  waiting-woman  stretched  at  full 
length  on  the  carpet,  in  a  deep  sleep,  so  deep  that  her  mistress 
had  much  trouble  to  waken  her.  When,  at  last,  she  had  been 
made  to  rise,  she  seemed  scarcely  to  know  where  she  was,  or 
to  whom  she  was  speaking. 

"  I  beg  your  ladyship's  pardon,"  said  she  drowsily,  "  I  was 
dreaming.  I  thought  I  heard  robbers  in  the  house,  and  when 
your  ladyship  spoke,  I  was  struggling." 

"  God  be  thanked,  there  are  no  robbers  here  ! "  returned 
Laura,  kindly.  "  Perhaps  you  heard  the  sentry's  step  in  the 
park,  and  you  ought  to  know  that  the  Palais  Eoyal  is  strictly 
guarded.  But  why  are  you  not  in  bed  with  the  rest  ?  I  dis- 
missed you  all." 

"  I  have  no  right  to  retire  before  my  mistress,"  returned  the 
gii'l,  obsequiously.     "  Therefore,  I  sat  in  your  ladyship's  room 


FIRST  LOVE,  155 

to  await  you,  but  sleep  overcame  me,  and  I  humbly  crave  your 
pardon.     Shall  I  close  the  door  that  leads  to  the  garden  ?" 

"What !  still  afraid  of  robbers,  Louise?"  laughed  Laura. 
"Well— close  the  door,  if  you  will— good-night" 

"  Can  I  do  nothing  for  your  ladyship  ?" 

"Thank  you — yes.  Open  the  door  of  Madame  Duponfs 
room,  and  let  me  feel  that  I  am  within  hearing  of  my  dear  old 
Cerberus.     That  is  all. " 

The  waiting- woman  did  as  she  was  bidden,  and  then  retired 
to  her  room,  but  not  to  sleep.  She  seated  herself  before  a 
table,  drew  out  her  portfolio,  and  began  to  write.  Now  and 
then  she  paused  and  looked  up,  when  the  sinister  light  that 
shone  in  her  eyes  streamed  through  the  room  like  the  phos- 
phorescent glow  of  the  lichen  that  moulds  in  the  churchyard. 

She  wrote  the  whole  night  long,  and  day  dawned  before 
she  rose  from  her  task. 

"  Ah,"  sighed  she,  "  for  such  a  service  surely  he  will  return 
to  me  !  I  have  repeated  their  conversation,  word  for  word, 
not  a  sigh  or  a  kiss  have  I  forgotten.  Who  but  his  poor 
Louise  would  have  served  him  so  faithfully  I  'Tis  a  vile  trade, 
that  of  a  spy ;  nor  would  I  have  accepted  such  a  mission  for 
all  the  gold  in  the  king's  treasury;  but,  for  love  of  Barbesieur 
Louvois,  I  would  sell  my  own  sister  to  infamy — why  not  his  ?" 

While  thus  soliloquizing,  she  had  left  her  own  room  and 
crossed  the  corridor  that  led  to  the  men's  apartments.  She 
opened  the  door  of  one  of  the  rooms  without  knocking,  and 
going  directly  up  to  a  bed  she  touched  the  sleeper,  and  having 
wakened  him,  whispered  : 

"  Greorge,  awake — awake  ! — rouse  up  quickly  !  ' 

"What  is  it?"  mumbled  Gteorge,  stretching  himself, 

"  Hist !— It  is  I,  Louise.  Dress  yourself  as  speedily  as  you 
can,  and  away  with  this  packet  to  your  master.  Give  it  to 
no  messenger,  but  place  it  in  his  own  hands,  and  he  will  re- 
ward you  magnificently,  for  you  will  have  done  him  a  greai 
service." 

She  glided  away  and  returned  to  her  own  room,  leaving  the 
door  open.  In  less  than  fifteen  minutes  George  stood  before 
her,  equipped  for  secret  service.  "  Mademoiselle  Louise,"  whis- 
pered he,  "  I  shall  be  with  Monsieur  de  Louvois  in  ten  min- 


156  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

utes  ;  for  I  have  the  key  of  the  postern,  and  can  slip  out  and 
back  again  without  anybody  being  the  wiser  for  my  little  ex- 
cursion." 

"  So  much  the  better.  Away  with  you,  and  the  sooner  the 
better ! " 

George  went  on  his  way,  and  Louise  stood  in  her  doorway 
until  she  heard  him  softly  open  and  close  the  outer  door  be- 
low ;  then  she  threw  herself  upon  her  bed  to  sleep.  Her  last 
words  were  these  : 

"  Oh,  faithless  but  loved— now  can  I  dream  that  thine  arms 
are  around  me  once  more  ! " 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  BETRAYAL. 

The  sun  was  high  in  the  heavens  when  Laura  awoke,  and 
rang  for  her  waiting-woman.  Mademoiselle  Louise,  fresh, 
smiling,  and  ofi&cious,  came  at  once  from  the  anteroom,  and 
began  the  toilet  of  her  mistress.  She  seemed  to  take  more 
pleasure  than  usual  in  gathering  her  magnificent  dark  coils 
into  a  net  of  gold  and  pearls,  and  to  linger  more  admiringly 
than  ever  over  the  last  little  touches  given  to  the  lace  that  bor- 
dered Laura's  neglige  of  spotless  white  mull. 

She  certainly  was  one  of  the  loveliest  of  created  beings,  and 
so  thought  good  Madame  Dupont,  as  her  ex-pupil  came  into  the 
dining-room,  and  imprinted  two  hearty  kisses  on  her  withered 
old  cheeks.  They  sat  down  together  to  breakfast,  and  George, 
looking  as  innocent  as  if  he  had  just  awaked  from  the  sleep  of 
the  righteous,  came  in  with  their  morning  chocolate.  All  went 
on  as  usual,  except  with  the  young  marchioness,  who,  instead 
of  laughing  and  chatting  of  Italy,  and  Bonaletta,  as  she  was 
accustomed  to  do  with  her  "  dear  Dupont,"  sipped  her  choc- 
olate in  silent  abstraction.  Breakfast  had  long  been  over,  and 
still  she  sat  in  her  arm-chair,  looking  dreamily  into  the  garden, 
her  head  leaning  on  her  hand,  her  lips  sometimes  rippling 
with  a  smile,  sometimes  opening  with  a  gentle  sigh. 


THE  BETRAYAL.  157 

She  had  been  plunged  in  her  blissful  reverie  for  almost 
an  hour,  when  the  door  was  opened,  and  George  appeared  be- 
fore her. 

"  Your  ladyship,"  said  he,  "  a  man  without  desires  speech 
with  you." 

"  Who  is  he,  George  ? "  asked  Laura,  reluctantly  returning 
to  the  world  and  its  exigencies. 

*'  He  will  not  say,  my  lady.  He  wears  no  livery,  but  says 
that  your  ladyship  knows  whence  he  comes  and  why.  He  has 
a  bouquet  which  was  forgotten  yesterday  evening." 

Laura  darted  from  her  chair ;  then,  blushing  deeply,  she 
stopped,  and  recalled  her  wandering  senses. 

*' Admit  him,"  said  she,  trying  to  speak  carelessly.  "I 
will  inquire  what  this  means." 

"  Oh,  'tis  a  greeting  from  him,"  thought  she ;  but  before 
she  had  time  to  surmise  any  further,  the  door  reopened,  and  a 
young  man  entered  the  room,  holding  in  his  hand  a  superb 
bouquet  of  rare  and  exquisite  flowers. 

"  Who  sent  you  hither  ? "  asked  Laura,  with  wildly-beating 
heart. 

*'  A  cavalier  whose  name  I  do  not  know,"  replied  the  young 
roan,  looking  timidly  up  at  the  dazzling  vision  of  beauty 
that  stood  before  him.  "  I  am  first  clerk  in  the  largest  estab- 
lishment of  the  Marchd  aux  Fleiirs,  and  the  gentleman  who 
bespoke  the  bouquet  ordered  the  handsomest  flowers  in  our 
collection.  Your  ladyship  sees  that  we  have  filled  the  order 
with  the  greatest  care ;  for  this  bouquet  contains  specimens 
of  our  rarest  and  most  expensive  flowers.  To  be  sure,  the  gen- 
tleman paid  an  enormous  price  for  it,  saying  that  nothing  we 
could  furnish  was  too  costly  for  the  occasion." 

Laura  had  li.stened  with  wonderful  patience  to  all  this  idle 
babble.  "  Give  me  the  flowers,"  she  said.  "  They  are  indeed 
most  beautiful,  and  I  am  grateful  for  them,  both  to  you  and 
the  amiable  unknown  who  sends  them." 

**  He  is  very  small ;  of  sallow  complexion,  but  with  large 
black  eyes,"  replied  the  clerk,  while,  with  an  awkward  scrape 
and  bow,  he  presented  the  bouquet  to  Laura.  **He  was  so 
pleased  with  our  selection,  that  he  kissed  one  of  the  flow- 


158  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

Before  she  had  time  to  control  her  tongue,  Laura  had  ex- 
claimed, "  Which  one  ? " 

"The  blue  one,  your  ladyship,  called  Comelina  coelestisy 

Laura  looked  down  at  the  Comelina  coelestiSj  and  fain 
would  she  have  robbed  it  of  its  kiss,  but  she  consoled  herself 
with  the  thought  that  she  would  rifle  it  of  its  sweets  as  soon  as 
the  messenger  left. 

He  came  closer.  "  Your  ladyship,"  said  he,  in  a  very  low 
voice,  "  I  bear  a  message,  as  well  as  a  nosegay.  Is  there  any 
one  about,  to  overhear  me  ? " 

"  No  one,"  replied  Laura,  breathless  and  eager. 

"  Search  the  bouquet,  and  under  the  Comelina  your  lady- 
ship will  find  something." 

Laura's  rosy  fingers  were  buried  in  the  flowers,  and  she 
drew  from  its  fragrant  hiding-place  a  small  slip  of  paper. 

"  Your  ladyship  is  requested,  if  you  consent,  to  return,  as  an 
answer,  the  four  first  words  of  the  note." 

Laura  unrolled  the  paper,  and  read  :  "  Not  to-morrow^  but 
to-day.    Danger  threatens,  and  we  must  anticipate. — E." 

Her  face  flushed,  and  her  eager  eyes  were  fixed  upon  that 
little  scroll  which,  to  her  and  her  lover,  was  of  such  great  im- 
port. What  could  it  mean  ?  She  read  it  again  and  again,  un- 
til the  words  danced  before  her  reeling  senses. 

The  clerk  came  closer  yet.  "Your  ladyship,"  whispered 
he,  "I  must  take  back  my  answer.  Somebody  might  come 
in." 

"  The  answer  ? "  gasped  she,  scarcely  knowing  what  he  said. 
"True,  time,  there  must  be  an  answer."  She  stood  for  a  mo- 
ment irresolute,  then  a  shudder  thrilled  through  her  frame, 
and  she  felt  as  if  some  evil  spirit  had  again  come  nigh.  She 
raised  her  eyes  to  the  face  of  the  messenger,  as  though  she 
would  have  looked  into  the  penetralia  of  his  thoughts. 

"  I  am  to  write  four  words  ? "  asked  she,  plaintively.  "You 
know,  then,  where  he  lives  ? " 

The  clerk  replied  without  the  least  embarrassment :  "  Par- 
don me,  I  told  your  ladyship  that  I  was  unacquainted  with 
the  cavalier.  He  awaits  my  return  in  the  flower-market,  and 
lest  I  should  be  too  long  absent,  he  hired  a  fiacre  to  bring  me 
forth  and  back. " 


THE  BETRAYAL.  159 

"He  awaits  my  answer,"  thought  Laura.  "  Oh,  it  must  be 
80  !    He  shall  not  be  left  in  suspense  ! " 

She  went  hurriedly  to  a  table,  and  wrote,  "  Not  to-morrow^ 
but  to-day. ^^ 

"  Here,"  said  she,  "  is  my  answer,  and  before  you  go,  I  beg 
you  to  accept  this  for  your  trouble." 

She  was  about  to  hand  him  a  purse  of  gold,  when  he  re- 
treated, and  raised  his  hand  in  token  of  refusal. 

"  I  thank  your  ladyship,  I  have  already  been  paid,  and  have 
no  right  to  a  reward  from  you.  May  I  be  permitted  to  take 
my  leave  ? " 

"  Yes  ;  hasten,  I  implore  you,"  returned  Laura,  wondering 
at  his  disinterestedness. 

Scarcely  had  the  commissionnaire  taken  his  leave,  when 
the  door  of  the  antechamber  was  opened,  and  a  lackey  an- 
nounced : 

"  Madame,  her  royal  highness  the  Duchess  of  Orleans  ! " 

Laura  hastily  thrust  the  paper  in  her  bosom,  and,  coming 
forward,  kissed  the  hand  of  her  friend.  But  as  she  did  so, 
she  felt  the  blood  rush  to  her  temples,  and  bent  low  her  head 
to  hide  her  confusion. 

"  I  could  not  stay  away  any  longer,"  began  the  unsuspect- 
ing duchess.  "  For  three  days  monsieur  has  been  confined  to 
his  room  with  some  trifling  ailment,  for  which  peevishness 
seems  to  be  his  only  palliative.  He  is  one  of  those  who,  when 
he  sneezes,  imagines  that  the  earth  is  shaken  to  her  founda- 
tions ;  and  when  he  snuffles,  that  all  the  angels  in  heaven 
drop  on  their  knees  to  pray  for  him.  With  some  trouble,  I 
prevailed  upon  him  to  give  me  one  hour  wherein  to  make 
some  change  in  my  dress.  I  have  accomplished  the  change 
in  fifteen  minutes,  and  the  remainder  of  the  hour  I  come  to 
spend  with  you." 

"Thank  you,  dear  friend,"  replied  Laura,  who  had  now  re- 
covered her  self-possession,  and  was  sincerely  glad  to  see  the 
duchess.  Then  leading  her  to  a  divan,  the  graceful  young 
hostess  dropped  down  on  a  cushion  at  the  feet  of  her  royal 
gfuest,  and  continued  :  "  I  have  been  wondering  why  I  did  not 
lee  my  gracious  mistress  ;  I  thought  she  had  forgotten  me." 

"  How  could  you  do  her  such  injustice  ? "  replied  Elizabeth- 


160  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

Charlotte,  affectionately.  "  I  have  been  longing  for  the  sound 
of  your  carolling  voice,  and  the  sight  of  your  beaming  face. 
Let  me  look  at  you,"  continued  she,  taking  Laura's  head  be- 
tween her  two  hands,  and  gazing  upon  her  with  fondest  ad- 
miration. 

Poor  Laura  could  ill  bear  the  test  of  such  loving  scrutiny. 
She  blushed  scarlet,  and  her  long  black  eyelashes  fell  at  once 
under  the  searching  look  of  the  duchess's  round  blue  eyes. 

"  Laura  ! "  exclaimed  she,  anxiously,  "  something  ails  you, 
my  darling  ;  what  have  you  on  your  heart  that  you  are  hid- 
ing from  me  ? " 

"  Dear,  dear  duchess,"  stammered  Laura,  "  I  have  nothing 
to—" 

"  Nay,  child,  do  not  stoop  to  untruth—" 

"I  cannot — I  will  not,"  cried  Laura,  bursting  into  tears. 
"  I  have  a — secret — but  you  shall  know  it — soon." 

"Gracious  Heaven  !"  cried  the  duchess,  turning  very  pale, 
"  what  has  happened  ?    What  evil  tidings  am  I  to  hear  ? " 

"  No  evil  tidings,  my  dearest  mistress,  no  evil  tidings  ! 
Nothing  but  joy — joy  unspeakable.  Do  you  remember  what  I 
told  you  on  that  happy  morning  of  the  ball,  that  if  I  ever  loved 
I  would  leave  even  your  dear  self  to  follow  the  man  of  my 
choice  ?  Well ! "  cried  she,  her  face  breaking  out  into  bright 
smiles,  while  glistening  tears  lay  like  dew-drops  upon  her 
rose-tinted  cheeks,  "  he  is  here  !  He  came  down  from  the 
moon  on  yesternight,  and  brought  two  greal  stars  in  his  head 
instead  of  eyes  ;  stars  that  I  had  no  soonc  r  looked  upon,  than 
I  fell  madly  in  love.  Oh  !  he  was  sen  hither  by  the  good 
God,  and  it  is  His  will  that  I  love  him,  and  forsake  all  others, 
to  follow  whithersoever  he  leads  ! " 

' '  Is  she  mad  ? "  cried  the  duchess,  in  alarm.  "  Yesternight  ? 
— came  from  the  moon  ? — Who  came,  Laura  ?" 

"God  and  my  mother  know  his  name,  and  both  have 
blessed  us  ;  but  I  dare  not  tell  it  yet — not  even  to  you.  Pray 
ask  me  no  more — for  I  may  not  say  another  word." 

"Not  say  another  word?"  said  the  duchess,  shaking  her 
head,  and  looking  reproachfully  at  her  favorite.  "  Then  there 
is  something  wrong  in  this  headlong  love,  and  it  is  no  mes- 
sage to  your  heart  from  above.     Afraid  to  say  more  to  your 


THE  BETRAYAL.  161 

best  friend — to  her  who  replaces  your  mother? — When  saw 
you  this  preterhuman  being  ?  Who  ? — Great  God  I "  cried 
she,  suddenly,  putting  her  hands  to  her  heart, "  can  it  be  !  Yes 
— it  must  be  Prince  Eugene  I " 

Laura  clapped  her  hands,  and  then  threw  herself  in  the 
duchess's  arms.  "Yes— you  have  guessed — it  is  he  whom  I 
shall  love  to-day,  to-morrow,  and  forever.  But  not  another 
word,  my  own  dear  mistress.  To-morrow  you  shall  know  all, 
and  be  assured  that  there  is  no  wrong  either  done  or  to  be 
done — I  can  say  but  this  to-day,  that  he  certainly  came  down 
from  the  moon,  and  is  the  only  luminary  whose  rays  shall 
ever  shine  upon  my  heart ! " 

While  Laura  was  pouring  out  her  childish  half-confidences, 
her  disinterested  friend,  the  commissi onnaire,  was  similarly  en- 
gaged in  the  anteroom  with  Master  George. 

This  latter  worthy,  after  a  few  whispered  words  from  the 
former,  excused  himself  to  the  lackeys  of  her  royal  highness, 
who  were  in  waiting  there,  and  retreated  to  the  corridor  with 
the  clerk. 

"Now,  George,"  whispered  he,  "mark  what  I  tell  you. 
Your  master  says  that  the  coachman  must  be  ready  with  the 
travelling-carriage  of  the  marchioness  at  ten  o'clock  to-night ; 
that  Mademoiselle  Louise  must  secretly  pack  up  some  of  her 
lady's  effects  and  her  own,  and  have  them  conveyed  to  the 
chariot  throughout  the  day  ;  and  that  all  must  be  done  so  that 
her  ladyship  shall  suspect  nothing." 

"  It  shall  be  done.  And  so  her  ladyship  is  to  go  on  a  jour- 
ney at  ten  o'clock  to-night  ?    What  an  hour  to  set  out ! " 

"  Yes,  at  ten  o'clock  precisely,  and  the  blessing  of  God  go 
with  her  I" 


BOOK  III. 


CHAPTEE  I. 

THE  DISAPPOENTMENT. 

All  was  bustle  and  confusion  in  the  Hotel  de  Soissons.  A 
crowd  of  workmen  filled  its  halls  ;  some  on  ladders,  regilding 
walls  and  ceilings  ;  some  on  their  knees  waxing  the  inlaid 
floors ;  and  others  occupied  in  removing  the  coverings,  and 
dusting  the  satin  cushions  of  the  rich  furniture  of  the  state 
apartments.  The  first  upholsterers  in  Paris  had  been  sum- 
moned to  the  work  of  preparation,  and  the  general-in-chief  of 
the  gilders  stood  in  their  midst,  giving  orders  to  his  staff,  and 
sending  off  detachments  for  special  service.  He  held  in  his 
hand  a  roll  of  paper  resembling  a  marshal's  baton,  with  which 
he  assigned  their  posts  to  his  men.  Some  of  his  subalterns 
approached,  to  ask  in  what  style  the  walls  of  the  reception- 
rooms  were  to  be  decorated. 

"  I  must  see  the  Prince  of  Savoy  about  that,"  said  he,  with 
a  flourish.  And  he  took  his  way  for  the  prince's  cabinet. 
"  Announce  me  to  his  highness,"  said  he,  u^  he  entered  the 
antechamber. 

"  His  highness  is  at  home  to  nobody  to-day,  sir,"  replied 
Conrad. 

"  He  will  be  at  home  for  me,"  said  the  decorator,  compla- 
cently. "  Say  to  the  prince  that  I  desire  an  interview  on  busi- 
ness of  great  moment,  connected  with  the  embellishment  of 
the  hotel ;  and  without  a  conference  with  himself  we  cannot 
proceed.  I  am  Monsieur  Louis,  the  master  of  the  masters  of 
decoration." 

Conrad,  quite  awed  by  the  stateliness  of  Monsieur  Louis, 
went  at  once  to  announce  him,  and  returned  with  a  summons 
for  him  to  enter  the  cabinet. 

(162) 


THE  DISAPPOINTMENT.  163 

Eugene  met  him  with  a  bright  smile  of  welcome,  and  asked 
what  he  could  do  to  assist  Monsieur  Louis. 

"Your  highness,"  replied  monsieur,  ''my  workmen  have 
gilded,  waxed,  and  dusted  the  apartments,  and  the  important 
task  of  decorating  them  is  about  to  commence.  I  am  here  to 
inquire  of  your  highness  what  is  to  be  the  character  of  the 
dcjcorations.  Are  they  to  have  a  significance  that  betokens 
Honor,  Friendship,  Art,  or  Love  ? " 

Eugene  could  not  repress  a  smile  as  he  asked  whether,  for 
the  expression  of  these  various  sentiments,  there  were  different 
styles  of  decoration. 

''Most  assuredly,"  was  the  pompous  reply.  "It  depends 
entirely  upon  the  nature  of  the  guest  or  guests  to  be  enter- 
tained. If  your  highness  is  to  receive  a  personage  of  distinc- 
tion (a  king,  for  example),  your  decorations  must  be  emblemat- 
ic of  respect.  They  must  consist  of  laurels,  lilies,  and  banners. 
If  a  friend  or  one  of  your  own  noble  kinsmen,  the  decorations 
have  no  special  significance  ;  we  mingle  flowers,  festoons,  and 
pictures  that  are  not  allegorical.  If  you  invite  a  company  of 
artists,  poets,  musicians,  and  the  like,  the  principal  decorations 
surmount  the  seat  of  the  Maecenas  who  entertains,  and  the 
rest  of  the  apartment  is  left  in  simplicity." 

"  But  you  spoke  of  a  fourth  style,"  said  Eugene,  blushing. 
"  Indeed  I  did,  your  highness  ;  and  on  that  style  we  lavish 
our  best  efforts.  If  the  guest  is  to  be  a  bride,  then  our  walls 
and  ceilings  must  be  ornamented  with  rich  designs  emblematic 
of  love.  We  must  have  cupids,  billing  doves,  and  wreaths  of 
roses,  mingled  with  orange-flowers.  Added  to  this,  the  deco- 
rations must  begin  in  the  vestibule,  and  be  carried  out  in  char- 
acter, through  the  entire  palace." 

**  Well,"  said  Eugene,  his  large  eyes  glowing  with  delight, 
"let  your  decorations  be  appropriate  to  a  bridal." 

*'  Impossible,  your  highness  I  This  style  requires  great 
originality  of  conception,  and  time  to  carry  out  the  designs. 
It  would  require  a  hundred  workmen,  and  then  I  doubt — " 

"Employ  more  than  a  hundred,"  returned  Eugene,  "and  it 
can  be  done  in  a  day.  Indeed  it  must  be  done,  and— I  ask  of 
you  as  a  favor  not  to  mention  to  any  one  in  what  style  you  arf 
decorating  the  Hotel  de  Soissons." 


164  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND   HIS   TIMES. 

"Your  highness,  I  will  answer  for  myself,  but  I  cannot  an-^ 
swer  for  the  discretion  of  a  hundred  workmen,  who,  precisely 
because  they  are  asked  to  be  silent,  would  prefer  to  be  com- 
municative." 

"  Well — do  your  best,  but  remember  that  your  work  must 
be  done  to-day.'' 

"  It  shall  be  done,  your  highness,  and  when  you  see  it,  you 
will  confess  that  I  am  the  first  decorateur  of  the  age." 

So  saying.  Monsieur  Louis  made  his  bow  and  strutted 
off. 

Eugene  looked  after  him  with  a  smile.  "  He  is  proud  and 
happy,"  said  the  prince,  "  and  yet  he  merely  embellishes  the 
palace  wherein  love's  festival  is  to  be  held.  But  for  me — oh, 
happiest  of  mortals  !  is  the  festival  prepared.  Laura,  adored 
Laura,  I  must  speak  thy  name  to  the  walls,  or  my  heart  will 
burst  with  the  fullness  of  its  joy  !  How  shall  I  kill  the  weary 
houra  of  this  day  of  expectation?  How  cool  the  hot  blood 
that  rushes  wildly  through  my  veins,  and  threatens  me  with 
loss  of  reason  from  excess  of  bliss  !  I  am  no  longer  a  solitary, 
slighted  abbe  ;  I  am  a  hero,  a  giant,  for  I  am  beloved  !  " 

At  that  moment  the  door  was  hastily  opened,  and  Conrad 
made  his  appearance. 

"Your  highness,"  said  he,  "a  messenger  is  here  from  her 
royal  highness,  madame,  and  begs  for  an  audience." 

Eugene  started,  and  his  brow  clouded  with  anxiety.  "A 
messenger  from  madame,"  murmured  he.  "What  can — how 
should  the  duchess  ? But — Conrad,  admit  him." 

"  Speak,"  cried  Eugene,  as  soon  as  the  messenger  entered 
the  room.     "  What  are  her  royal  highness's  commands  ? " 

"  Her  royal  highness  the  Duchess  of  Orleans  requests  his 
highness  Prince  Eugene  of  Savoy  to  visit  her  immediately. 
And  that  no  delay  may  occur,  her  royal  highness's  equipage  is 
at  the  door,  waiting  for  his  excellency." 

Eugene  answered  not  a  word.  With  an  imperious  wave  of 
the  hand,  which  was  justly  interpreted  into  a  command  to 
clear  the  passage,  he  strode  on  and  on  through  the  corridors  of 
the  Hotel  de  Soissons,  crushing  with  his  foot  Monsieur  Louis's 
choicest  garlands,  that  lay  on  the  floor  ready  to  wreathe  the 
walls  and  mirrors  of  the  rooms  of  state. 


THE  DISAPPOINTMENT.  165 

Monsieur  Louis  was  shocked  at  such  desecration  ;  but  still 
more  shocked  was  he  to  observe  what  a  change  had  come  over 
the  face  of  the  prince  since  their  interview  scarce  half  an  hour 
ago.  Reckless  of  the  ruined  garlands  that  followed  his  track, 
pale  and  silent,  he  went  on  and  on,  down  the  marble  staircase, 
and  through  the  vestibule,  until  he  flung  himself  into  the 
coach,  and  cried  : 

"  On,  for  your  life  I  urge  your  horses  to  their  topmost 
speed  !" 

The  coachman  obeyed,  and  went  thundering  down  the 
streets,  little  heeding  whether  the  equipage  that  bore  the  royal 
arms  trod  down  half  a  dozen  boors  on  its  way  or  not. 

It  drew  up  with  a  sudden  jerk  before  the  Palais  Royal ; 
and  the  messenger,  who  had  followed  on  horseback,  asked  if 
his  highness  would  follow  him.  He  had  madame's  orders  to 
introduce  her  visitor  without  further  ceremony,  by  a  private 
staircase,  leading  to  her  own  apartments. 

Doubtless  the  duchess  had  heard  the  carriage  as  it  stopped, 
for,  when  Eugene  entered  the  anteroom,  she  was  standing  in 
the  door  of  her  cabinet,  visibly  impatient  for  his  arrival.  She 
beckoned  him  to  approach,  and  closed  the  door  with  her  own 
hand. 

She  gave  him  no  time  for  ceremonious  greeting.  "  God  be 
thanked,  you  are  here  ! "  exclaimed  she.  "  Put  down  the  por- 
tiere, that  no  one  may  hear  what  I  have  to  say."  Eugene 
obeyed  mechanically,  and  loosening  its  heavy  tassels,  the 
crimson  satin  curtain  fell  heavily  to  the  floor. 

"  A.nd  now,"  cried  the  duchess,  indignantly,  "  now.  Prince 
Eugene  of  Savoy,  I  command  you  to  tell  me  the  truth,  and  the 
whole  truth  1  What  have  you  done  with  her  ?  How  could 
you  be  so  unknightly  as  to  take  advantage  of  her  innocent 
and  affectionate  nature,  to  wrong  one  of  the  purest  and  most 
perfect  of  God's  creatures  I  My  heart  is  like  to  break  with  its 
weight  of  sorrow  and  disgrace ;  and,  had  it  not  been  for 
Laura's  sake,  I  would  have  laid  my  complaint  before  his  ma- 
jesty. But  I  must  not  expose  her  to  the  world's  contumely, 
and  therefore  I  endure  your  presence  here.  Tell  me  at  once 
what  have  you  done  with  my  darling  ? " 

Eugene  could  scarcely  reply  to  this  passionate  appeal.    His 


166  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

senses  reeled — his  heart  seemed  to  freeze  within  him.  He 
thought  he  comprehended  ;  and  yet — 

"  Who  ?  Who  is  gone  ?  Oh,  duchess,  be  merciful ;  what 
mean  these  words  of  mystery  ? " 

The  duchess  eyed  him  scornfully.  "  Base  seducer,  dare  you 
question  me  ?  Do  you  strive  to  delude  me  into  believing  that 
you  do  not  know  of  whom  I  speak  ?  I  demand  of  you  at  once 
the  person  of  the  Marchioness  de  Bonaletta  ! " 

"  Laura  ! "  cried  Eugene,  in  a  tone  of  deepest  despair. 
"  Laura  gone  !    And  you  say  that  I  enticed  her  away  ! " 

"  Tell  me  tile  truth,  tell  me  the  truth,"  cried  madame. 

"  The  truth  ! "  groaned  Eugene,  while  the  duchess  started 
from  her  seat,  and  grasped  both  his  hands  in  hers. 

"  Have  mercy,"  stammered  he,  trembling  as  if  an  ague  had 
suddenly  seized  him.     "  Is  she  no  longer — ^here  ? " 

"  She  is  no  longer  here,"  echoed  the  duchess,  staring  in  as- 
tonishment at  the  writhing  features  of  the  unhappy  prince. 

"  You  know  not  where  she  is  ? "  gasped  he,  faintly. 

"  No,"  cried  she,  "  no  !  You  look  as  though  you  were  your- 
self astounded,  Prince  Eugene  ;  but  you  will  no  longer  deny 
your  guilt  when  I  tell  you  that  my  poor  innocent  child  has 
told  me  all." 

"  What— all  ? "  asked  Eugene. 

"  She  told  me  that  you  were  lovers.  And  now,  prevaricate 
no  longer  ;  it  is  useless  and  renders  you  still  more  infamous." 

"  What  more  did  she  say  ? "  asked  Eugene,  unconscious  that 
his  tone  was  as  imperative  as  that  of  an  emperor. 

"  Nothing  more.  She  merely  told  me  that  in  two  days  I 
should  learn  all.  Alas  !  I  have  learned  it  to  my  cost,  and  to 
her  ruin  ! " 

"  And  you  accuse  me  of  enticing  her  !  Great  God  !  if  my 
heart  were  not  breaking  with  anguish,  it  would  break  that 
such  baseness  could  be  attributed  to  me.  Would  that  I  could 
answer  you,  duchess,  but  God  in  heaven  knows  that  I  was  ig- 
norant of  her  departure,  until  I  learned  it  from  yourself  !  " 

"  Was  ever  a  man  so  bold  in  falsehood  ! "  cried  the  duch- 
ess, losing  all  command  of  her  temper.  "  I  have  in  your  own 
handwriting  the  proof  of  your  wickedness.  Now  mark  me  ! 
This  morning,  the  second  woman  in  waiting  of  the  marchion- 


THE  DISAPPOINTMENT.  167 

ess  came  frightened  to  my  apartments  to  tell  me  that  her  mis- 
tress, her  woman  Louise,  and  Greorge,  had  disappeared  from 
the  pavilion,  no  one  could  surmise  when.  I  was  so  overcome 
with  terror  that  I  hurried  to  the  pavilion,  and  alas  !  found  that 
it  was  indeed  so.  Neither  her  own  bed,  nor  that  of  the  serv- 
ant who  accompanied  her,  had  been  occupied.  I  looked 
everywhere  for  some  clew  to  the  mystery,  when,  on  the  floor 
near  her  morning-dress,  which  hung  on  a  chair,  I  found  this 
scrap  of  paper,  which,  as  it  is  signed  with  your  initials,  you 
will  not  deny,  I  presume." 

With  eyes  that  flashed  fire,  she  almost  dashed  the  paper  in 
his  face.  Eugene  took  it,  and,  having  given  it  one  glance,  he 
turned  pale  as  death,  and  it  fluttered  from  his  palsied  hands  to 
the  floor. 

"  Heavens,  what  can  ail  him  ! "  cried  the  duchess,  sympa- 
thizing, in  spite  of  herself,  with  his  sudden  sorrow.  He  was 
ghastly  as  a  spectre,  and  his  whole  frame  shook  like  the  leaf 
of  an  aspen. 

"  I  did  not  write  it,"  gasped  he,  but  almost  inaudibly  ;  for 
his  teeth  chattered  so  that  he  could  scarcely  articulate  a  sound. 

"  What ! "  exclaimed  the  duchess,  now  thoroughly  con- 
vinced of  his  innocence,  and  feeling  her  terror  increase  with 
the  conviction,  "  what  I  you  did  not  write  these  woixLs  ? " 

He  shook  his  head,  but  no  sound  came  from  his  blanched 
lips.  He  laid  his  hands  upon  his  heart  as  if  to  stifle  its  an- 
guish ;  then,  raising  them  to  his  head,  he  pressed  them  to  his 
temples,  and  so  paced  the  room  for  a  while.  Then  he  came 
and  stood  before  the  duchess,  whose  compassionate  eyes  filled 
with  tears  as  they  met  his  look  of  anguish.  Finally,  he  heaved 
a  long  sigh,  and  spoke. 

"  My  name  has  been  used  to  deceive  her,"  said  he.  "  She 
has  never  seen  my  writing,  and  thus  she  fell  into  the  snare." 

**  But  I  cannot  comprehend  who  it  is  that  possessed  such 
influence  over  her  as  to  frighten  her  into  silent  acquiescence 
of  the  fraud.  Laura  is  young,  but  she  is  prudent  and  resolute. 
These  words  had  some  meaning  which  could  be  referred  to 
you,  or  she  would  not  have  understood  them." 

"  Ay,"  returned  Eugene,  solemnly,  *'  they  were  chosen  with 
Satanic  shrewdness.  They  referred  to  our  plans  of  to-day,  and 
12 


168  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

signified  that  I  had  anticipated  the  time  for  our  marriage. 
Ah  !  well  I  know  what  happened ;  and  well  I  know  why- 
Laura  made  no  resistance  !  At  ten  o'clock  she  extinguished 
all  the  lights  in  her  parlor  save  one  ;  and  as  soon  as  this  sig- 
nal had  been  given,  four  men,  whose  faces  were  concealed,  en- 
tered the  house.  One  of  them  was  a  priest,  two  were  witnesses, 
and  the  fourth — O  God  !  that  fourth  one  !  Who  was  he  I 
know  not ;  but  I  shall  learn — alas  !  too  soon.  Without  a 
word  (for  such  had  been  our  agreement)  he  took  her  hand,  and 
the  priest  read  the  marriage  ceremony.  When  the  names  had 
been  signed,  he  raised  my  Laura  in  his  arms,  bore  her  through 
the  postern  to  a  carriage,  and,  O  God  !  O  God  !  tore  her  from 
me  forever  ! " 

,  "  But  how  come  you  to  know  these  particulars,  who  knew 
not  even  of  her  flight  ? " 

"  Duchess,  it  was  to  have  taken  place  to-night,  and  I  was 
to  have  been  that  bridegroom.  We  were  overheard,  and  those 
accursed  words,  '  not  to-morrow,  but  to-night,'  were  sent  in 
my  name.  She  thought  to  give  me  her  dear  hand,  while  I — 
I—" 

He  could  not  proceed.  He  gave  one  loud  sob,  and  burst 
into  tears.  Those  tears,  bitter  though  they  were,  saved  his 
reason. 

The  duchess,  too,  wept  profusely.  "  Poor  prince  ! "  said 
she,  "  well  may  you  mourn,  for  you  have  lost  an  angel  of 
goodness  and — " 

"  No  !  "  interrupted  Eugene,  fiercely.  "  Say  not  that  she  is 
lost  to  me  !  I  must  find  her,  for  she  is  mine, — and  I  must  find 
her  ravisher.  Great  God  of  heaven  ! "  cried  he,  raising  his 
clasped  hands,  "where  shall  I  find  the  robber  that  has  so 
cruelly  despoiled  us  both  ? " 

"  Stay  ! "  cried  the  duchess.  "  I  know  of  a  man  that  was 
her  suitor,  and  whose  suit  was  countenanced  by  her  father  and 
her  brother.  She  told  me  of  it  herself,  and,  to  avoid  their 
persecutions,  took  refuge  with  me." 

"  His  name,  his  name,  I  implore  you,  his  name  I " 

"The  Venetian  ambassador,  the  Marquis  de  Strozzi." 

"  I  thank  your  highness,"  replied  Eugene,  approaching  the 
door. 


THE  Dlii APPOINTMENT.  169 

**  Whither  do  you  go  ?" 

"To  seek  the  VeDctian  ambassador." 

"  And  compromise  Laura  ?  You  do  not  know  that  things 
transpii-ed  as  you  imagine.  She  may  merely  have  been  re- 
moved by  her  father,  to  part  her  from  yourself.  And  suppose 
the  marquis  was  no  party  to  her  flight  ?  You  would  make  her 
ridiculous— nay,  more  ;  you  would  sully  her  name,  so  that 
every  gossip  in  Paris  would  fall  upon  your  Laura's  reputation, 
and  leave  not  a  shred  of  it  wherewith  to  protect  her  from  the 
world's  contempt." 

Eugene  wiped  off  the  great  drops  of  sweat  that  beaded  his 
pallid  brow.  "You  are  right,"  said  he.  "She  must  not  be 
compromised — no,  not  even  if  I  died  of  grief  for  her  loss : 
there  ai*e  other  means — I  will  go  to  her  father." 

Elizabeth  nodded  her  head  approvingly.  "  Yes — that  you 
can  do.  You  may  confide  her  secret  to  her  father.  Take  the 
same  carriage  that  brought  you  hither,  and,  to  make  sure  of 
obtaining  speedy  admission  to  Louvois'  presence,  announce 
yourself  as  my  envoy." 

"I  thank  your  highness,"  replied  Eugene,  and,  inclining 
his  head,  he  moved  toward  the  door.  The  duchess  followed 
him,  and,  taking  his  hand  affectionately,  pressed  it  within  her 
own. 

"  I  see  that  you  love  my  darling  as  she  deserves  to  be  loved, 
and  you  would  have  made  her  happy.  Forgive  my  injustice 
and  my  hard  words.  I  was  so  wretched  that  I  knew  not  the 
import  of  my  accusations." 

"  1  do  not  remember  them,"  returned  Eugene,  sadly.  "  But 
one  thing  fills  my  heart — the  thought  of  my  Laura's  loss. 
Farewell,  dear  lady.    Now,  to  question  Louvois  I " 


170  PEINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

CHAPTER    II. 

THE  FOES. 

Great  was  the  astonishment  of  the  household  of  Lou  vols, 
when,  hastening  to  do  honor  to  the  liveries  of  the  royal  house 
of  Orleans,  they  saw  emerging  from  the  coach  Prince  Eugene 
of  Savoy. 

"  Announce  me  to  Monsieur  Louvois,"  said  he. 

The  message  passed  from  vestibule  to  corridor,  from  corri- 
dor to  staircase,  and  finally  reached  the  antechamber  of  the 
minister's  private  cabinet.  In  a  short  while,  the  answer  was 
forthcoming. 

*'His  excellency  begged  to  decline  the  visit  of  his  high- 
ness the  Prince  of  Savoy.     He  was  particularly  engaged." 

"  He  is  at  home,"  replied  the  prince ;  "  then  I  shall  cer- 
tainly alight,  for  I  must  and  will  see  him." 

So  he  entered  the  house,  and  traversed  the  vestibule.  The 
lackeys  made  no  effort  to  stop  him,  for  he  looked  dangerous  ; 
but  they  were  certainly  astounded  at  his  boldness,  who  forced 
himself  into  the  presence  of  the  minister,  when  he  had  de- 
clined the  proffered  visit. 

Eugene,  disregarding  their  amazed  looks,  asked  the  way  to 
the  cabinet,  and  no  one  ventured  to  refuse.  So  he  was  passed 
from  lackey  to  lackey,  until  he  reached  the  antechamber. 
"  Here,"  said  the  servant  that  had  accompanied  him,  "  here 
your  highness  will  find  a  person  to  announce  you." 

Eugene  bowed  his  head,  and  entered.  The  "  person  "  was 
certainly  within  ;  but  in  lieu  of  announcing  the  prince,  he 
stared  at  him  in  speechless  astonishment. 

Eugene  paid  no  attention  to  him,  but  moved  toward  the 
door  leading  to  the  prime  minister's  cabinet.  When  the  valet 
saw  this,  he  flew  across  the  room  to  stop  the  intruder,  and, 
placing  himself  directly  in  his  way,  he  bowed  and  said,  "  Par- 
don me,  your  highness.  You  must  have  been  misinformed. 
His  excellency  regrets  that  he  cannot  receive  your  highness's 
visit  to-day.     He  is  particularly  engaged." 

"  I  have  no  visit  to  make  to  his  excellency,"  replied  the 


THE  FOES.  171 

prince  without  embarrassment.     "  I  am  the  envoy  of  her  royal 
highness  the  Duchess  of  Orleans.     Announce  me  as  such." 

The  valet  soon  returned,  and,  holding  up  the  portidre  so  as 
to  admit  Eugene,  he  said,  *'  His  excellency  will  receive  the  en- 
voy of  her  royal  highness  the  Duchess  of  Orleans." 

Louvois  was  standing  near  a  writing-table,  from  which  he 
appeared  at  that  moment  to  have  risen.  His  right  hand  rested 
on  a  book,  and  he  stood  stiff  and  erect,  awaiting  an  inclina- 
tion from  Eugene,  to  bend  his  head  in  return.  But  the  prince 
advanced  so  proudly  that  Louvois  involuntarily  made  a  step 
toward  him,  and  then  recollecting  himself,  stood  still  and 
frowned  visibly. 

"  You  came  under  false  colors  to  claim  an  audience  from 
me,  prince,"  said  he.  "  As  you  found  (indeed,  you  should  have 
known)  that  I  would  not  receive  you  in  your  own  name,  you 
borrowed  that  of  her  royal  highness ;  taking  advantage  of 
the  resx)ect  due  madame,  to  force  yourself  into  my  presence. 
What  is  your  business  ? " 

"  In  supposing  that  I  have  used  her  royal  highness's  name 
to  force  myself  upon  you,  you  are  mistaken,"  replied  Eugene, 
calmly.  "  If  you  will  take  the  trouble  to  look  out  of  yonder 
window,  you  will  see  that  I  came  hither  in  her  highness's  own 
coach." 

Louvois  stepped  to  the  window,  looked  out,  and,  affecting 
astonishment,  exclaimed,  "  True  enough ;  there  are  tlie  royal 
liveries,  and  you  have  told  the  truth.  You  really  must  excuse 
me." 

"  I  do  excuse  you  ;  for  I  do  not  consider  that  one  bearing 
the  name  of  Louvois  is  in  a  position  to  affront  me  by  doubting 
my  word." 

*'  Lucky  for  you,"  returned  Louvois,  with  his  sinister  laugh ; 
"  for  there  is  not  likely  to  be  much  harmony  between  the  two 
families.  And  now  to  business.  What  message  do  you  bear 
from  madame  ? " 

"Her  royal  highness  informs  Monsieur  de  Louvois  that 
on  yesterday  night,  the  Marchioness  de  Bonaletta  disappeared 
from  her  pavilion  in  the  Palais  Royal.  As  Monsieur  de  Lou- 
vois is  well  posted  in  all  that  takes  place  in  or  about  Paris,  her 
royal  highness  is  convinced  that  he  is  no  stranger  to  this  oc- 


172  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

currence,  and  she  requires  that  her  lady  of  the  hedchamber  he 
returned  to  her,  or  she  be  directed  where  to  find  her." 

"  Is  that  all  ? "  asked  Louvois,  after  a  pause. 

"  That  is  all  that  I  have  to  say  for  the  Duchess  of  Or- 
leans.^'' 

"  You  are  so  very  emphatic  that  I  infer  you  have  something" 
else  to  say,  after  all.     Am  I  right  ? " 

"You  are." 

"  Well,  you  may  speak.  But  first,  allow  me  to  ask  how  you 
happen  to  be  her  highness's  messenger  ?  Was  it  by  way  of 
sympathizing  with  the  Marchioness  de  Bonaletta,  that  you  took 
service  with  her  mistress  ? " 

"  My  lord  prime  minister,"  returned  Eugene,  proudly,  "  I 
serve  myself  and  the  requirements  of  my  honor  only." 

"Ah,  indeed!  And  does  this  respectable  lady  pay  you 
well?" 

"  She  bestows  upon  me  wherewith  to  pay  those  who  ven- 
ture to  attack  her  name." 

"  Ha  !  ha  !  Then  you  must  have  heavy  payments  to  make, 
not  for  yourself  only,  but  for  your  mother." 

Eugene  clinched  his  fist,  and  made  a  motion  toward  his 
cruel  enemy,  but  Louvois  calmly  raised  his  hand. 

"  Peace,  young  man,"  said  he  ;  "  the  hour  for  reckoning  has 
not  arrived.  I  respect,  in  you,  the  representative  of  madame, 
and  you  shall  depart  from  my  house  uninjured,  to-day.  Take 
advantage,  then,  of  your  opportunity  ;  say  all  that  you  have 
to  say,  and  spare  yourself  the  trouble  of  sending  me  your  peti- 
tions by  writing." 

"  I  have  no  petitions  to  make  to  you,  oral  or  written.  I 
came  hither  to  claim  for  her  royal  mistress  the  Marchioness  de 
Bonaletta,  your  daughter. " 

"And  I  repeat  my  question.  How  came  you  to  be  the 
chosen  ambassador  of  her  royal  highness,  on  this  strictly  pri- 
vate affair  between  herself  and  me  ? " 

"  I  was  chosen,"  replied  Eugene,  breathing  hard  and  grow- 
ing pale,  "  because  I  love  the  marchioness." 

Louvois  laughed  aloud.  "  You  love  my  daughter,  do  you  ? 
I  admire  the  sagacity  which  directs  your  love  toward  the 
daughter  of  the  prime  minister  of  France,  and  the  richest 


THE  FOES.  173 

heiress  within  its  houndaries.  I  coDgratulate  you  upon  your 
choice." 

"  Yes,"  repeated  Eugene,  "  I  love  her,  although  she  is  your 
daughter.  And  so  dearly  do  I  love  her  that,  for  her  dear  sake, 
I  submit  to  be  affronted  by  my  mother's  traducer,  because  that 
traducer  is  the  father  of  my  Laura.  As  regards  your  absurd 
insinuations  respecting  her  wealth,  they  pass  by  me  as  the  '  idle 
wind  which  I  respect  not.*  And  now,  that  I  have  satisfied 
your  curiosity,  be  so  good  as  to  answer  me.  The  Duchess  of 
Orleans  wishes  to  know  where  is  her  lady  of  the  bedchamber  : 
Eugene  of  Savoy  demands  his  bride." 

"  Demands  his  bride  ?  This  is  too  presuming  !  But  I  must 
be  patient  with  the  representative  of  madame.  Kjiow,  then, 
ambitious  manikin,  that,  with  a  father's  right  to  save  his  mis- 
guided child  from  your  artifices  and  from  the  ridicule  of  the 
world,  I  rescued  her  from  rain  last  night,  and,  to  secure  her 
honor,  gave  her  in  marriage  to  an  honorable  man." 

Eugene  was  as  overwhelmed  with  this  intelligence  as  though 
he  had  not  foreseen  it  from  the  first.  His  wail  was  so  piteous 
that  Louvois  himself  felt  its  terrible  significance,  and  started. 

"  You  forced — forced  her  to  give  her  hand  to  another  ? " 
gasped  he. 

"  Forced  I  I  perceived  no  reluctance  on  my  daughter's  side, 
to  her  marriage.  She  spoke  a  willing  and  distinct  assent  to 
the  priest's  interrogatory.  I  ought  to  know,  who  myself  was 
one  of  her  witnesses." 

"  That  merely  proves  that  she  was  deceived  by  the  lying 
note  that  you  forged  in  my  name.  How,  in  the  sight  of  God, 
can  a  father  so  betray  his  own  child  ! " 

**  It  was  sent  with  my  approbation,  but  written  by  Barl)e- 
sieur,  as  a  slight  token  of  acknowledgment  for  your  cowardly 
attack  on  him  at  the  Pre  aux  Clercs.  Your  mother  was  right, 
it  appears,  when  a  few  weeks  ago  she  told  me  that  no  sympathy 
could  exist  between  her  race  and  mine  ;  and  that  every  at- 
tempt at  love  between  us  was  sure  to  end  in  hate.  Quite  right 
*he  wa.s,  quite  right.  And  now.  Prince  of  Savoy,  your  mis- 
sion is  fulfilled.  Tell  the  Duchess  of  Orleans  that  her  lady  of 
the  bedchamber  is  secure,  but  cannot  return  to  her  service : 
she  is  under  the  protection  of  her  husband." 


174  PRINCE  EUGENE   AND   HIS  TIMES. 

"  I  will  tell  her,"  replied  Eugene.  "  I  will  tell  her  that  all 
honor,  all  humanity,  all  justice,  forgetting,  a  father  has  cruelly- 
betrayed  his  own  daughter,  and  has  cursed  her  life  forever. 
Your  wicked  action  has  broken  the  hearts  of  two  of  God's 
ci'eatures,  and  has  consigned  them  to  a  misery  that  can  only 
end  with  death.  I  say  not,  '  May  God  forgive  you.'  No  !  may 
God  avenge  my  Laura's  wrongs,  and  may  he  choose  Eugene 
of  Savoy  as  the  instrument  of  His  wrath  !  for  every  pang  that 
rends  the  heart  of  my  beloved,  and  for  every  throe  that  racks 
my  own  J  you  shall  answer  to  me,  proud  minister  of  France  : 
and,  as  there  lives  a  God  in  heaven,  you  shall  regret  one  day 
that  you  rejected  me  for  your  son-in-law." 

Without  another  word  or  look  toward  Lou  vols,  he  left  the 
room,  and  returned  to  his  carriage.  When  he  re-entered  the 
cabinet  of  madame,  his  ghastly  face,  the  very  incarnation  of 
woe,  told  its  own  story. 

"  You  bring  me  evil  tidings,"  said  she,  mournfully.  "  My 
darling  is  lost  to  us  both  ! " 

"  Alas,  my  prophetic  heart !  She  is  married  ! "  was  his  cry 
of  despair. 

"  Poor  Laura  !  poor  Eugene  ! "  sobbed  the  duchess,  unable 
to  restrain  her  tears. 

"  If  you  weep,  what  shall  Jdo  ? "  asked  Eugene.  '*  Why  do 
you  take  it  so  much  to  heart  ? " 

"  Why  ? "  exclaimed  she.  "  Because  I  am  no  longer  young, 
and  I  have  lost  my  last  hope  of  happiness.  You,  at  least,  have 
life  and  the  world  before  you." 

"  And  I,"  said  he,  languidly — "  I  am  young,  and  have  a  life- 
time wherein  to  suffer.  The  world  is  before  me  1  Yes  ;  but  it 
is  a  waste,  without  tree  or  flower.  With  scorched  eyes  and 
blistered  feet,  I  must  tread  its  burning  sands  alone.  Forgive 
me,  dear  lady,  if  I  ask  permission  to  go.  If  I  stay  much  longer, 
my  aching  head  will  burst. " 

"  You  are  wan  as  a  spectre,  my  poor  Eugene,"  returned  the 
duchess,  laying  her  hand  upon  his  arm,  and  looking  him  com- 
passionately in  the  face. 

"  And,  in  truth,  I  am  but  the  corpse  of  the  living  man  of 
yesterday,"  sighed  he.  "  Let  me  go  home,  that  I  may  bury  my- 
self and  my  dead  hopes  together." 


THE   REPULSE.  175 

The  duchess  rang  for  her  gentleman  in  waiting,  and  re- 
quested him  to  accompany  the  prince  to  his  carriage,  and 
thence  to  the  Hotel  de  Soissons ;  but  Eugene  gently  refused 
the  proifered  escort,  and  begged  to  be  allowed  to  depart  alone. 
He  turned  away,  and  as  the  duchess  watched  his  receding 
figure,  she  saw  him  reel  from  side  to  side,  like  a  man  intoxi- 
cated. 

At  last  he  was  at  home.  He  had  strength  left  to  alight,  to 
ascend  the  long  marble  staircase,  whose  balustrade  was  now 
hidden  by  a  thicket  of  climbing  jessamines,  and  to  enter  the 
antechamber  leading  to  the  apartments  of  state. 

Monsieur  Louis,  with  the  elite  of  his  workmen,  was  deco- 
rating its  walls  with  hangings  of  white  satin,  looped  with  gar- 
lands suspended  from  the  bills  of  cooing  doves.  When  he 
beheld  the  prince,  he  came  triumphantly  forward. 

"  See,  your  highness,  this  is  but  the  vestibule  of  the  temple  ! 
When  you  will  have  seen  its  interior,  you  will  confess  that  it 
is  worthy  the  abode  of  the  loveliest  bride  that  ever  graced  its 
princely  halls." 

Eugene  neither  interrupted  nor  answered  him.  He  raised 
his  large,  mournful  eyes  to  the  festooned  roses,  the  gilded 
doves,  the  snowy,  shimmering  satin,  and  to  his  fading  senses 
they  seemed  gradually  to  darken  into  cypress-wreaths  and 
funereal  palls.  He  pressed  his  hand  upon  his  bursting  heart, 
and  fell  insensible  to  the  floor. 


CHAPTER  ni. 

THE  REPULSE. 

BiOHT  weeks  had  passed  away  since  the  disappearance  of 
the  Marchioness  de  Bonalettar— eight  weeks  of  sufiFering  and 
delirium  for  Eugene  of  Savoy.  A  nervous  fever  had  ensued, 
which,  if  it  had  well-nigh  proved  mortal,  had  proved,  in  one 
sense,  beneficent ;  for  it  had  stricken  him  with  unconscious- 
ness of  woe.  Blissful  dreams  of  love  hovered  about  his  couch, 
and  lit  up  with  feverish  brilliancy  his  pallid  countenance.    At 


176  PRINCE   EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

such  times  she  seemed  to  sit  beside  him  ;  for  he  smiled,  held 
out  his  hand,  and  addressed  her  in  words  of  burning  love  and 
ecstasy.  Perhaps  these  joyful  phantasms  gave  him  strength  to 
recuperate  from  his  terrible  prostration,  for  he  recovered  ;  and, 
after  four  weeks  of  struggle  between  life  and  death,  was  de- 
clared convalescent.  His  grandmother  and  his  sisters  had 
nursed  him  tenderly  throughout,  and  they  had  the  satisfaction 
of  hearing  from  his  physician,  that  to  their  loving  care  he 
owed  his  restoration  to  health.  The  poor  sufferer  himself 
could  not  find  it  in  his  heart  to  be  grateful  for  the  boon.  With 
returning  reason  came  awakening  anguish,  sharp  as  the  first 
keen  stroke  that  had  laid  low  the  beautiful  fabric  of  his  ephem- 
eral happiness. 

But  he  was  resolved  to  face  his  sorrow — not  to  fly  from  it. 
"  It  shall  kill  me  or  make  a  man  of  me,  whom  no  shaft  of  ad- 
versity can  ever  wound  again,"  thought  he.  He  confided  his 
troubles  to  no  one,  little  dreaming  that  his  secret  was  known 
not  only  to  his  grandmother  and  his  sisters,  but  to  the  Princes 
de  Conti,  who,  throughout  their  long  watches  by  his  bedside, 
had  heard  the  history  of  his  love,  its  return  by  the  beloved 
one,  and  its  disastrous  end.  But  each  and  all  respected  the 
secret,  and  tacitly  agreed  to  cover  it  with  a  veil  of  profound 
silence. 

So  Eugene  suffered  and  struggled  alone,  until  the  tempest 
of  his  grief  had  passed,  and  light  once  more  dawned  upon  his 
soul.  His  dreamy  eyes,  in  whose  depths  one  visionary  object 
had  been  mirrored,  now  rested  upon  things  with  quick  and 
apprehensive  intelligence  ;  his  ears,  that  had  been  pained 
with  one  monotonous  dirge  of  woe,  now  opened  to  the  sounds 
of  the  outer  world  around  ;  and  his  thoughts,  which  hitherto 
had  kept  unceasing  plaint  for  their  buried  love,  now  shook 
off  repining,  and  hearkened  to  the  trumpet-call  of  ambition. 

One  morning  he  called  Conrad,  who  (accustomed  of  late  to 
see  his  master  reclining  languidly  on  a  sofa,  seemingly  inter- 
ested in  nothing)  was  quite  surprised  to  find  him  in  the  ar- 
senal, busily  engaged  in  examining  and  cleaning  his  arms. 

Conrad  could  not  repress  a  smile,  and  a  glance  of  mingled 
astonishment  and  delight.     Eugene  saw  it,  and  replied  at  once. 

*'  You  see,"  said  he,  gently,  "  that  I  am  better,  Conrad.    I 


THE  REPOLSE.  177 

was  very  slow  to  recover  from  my  severe  illoess,  but  I  believe 
that  I  am  quite  sound  again.  I  thank  you  for  all  your  self- 
sacrificing  devotion  to  me,  during  that  season  of  suffering ; 
and  never  while  my  heart  beats  will  I  forget  it.  Let  me  press 
your  friendly  hand  within  my  own,  for  well  I  know  that 
your  highest  reward  is  to  be  found  in  my  esteem  and  affec- 
tion." 

CJonrad  grasped  the  hand  that  was  so  kindly  proffered,  and 
tears  of  joy  fell  upon  its  pale,  attenuated  fingers. 

"  My  dear  lord,"  sobbed  he,  "  how  you  have  suffered  I  and 
oh,  how  gladly  I  would  have  suffered  for  you  ! " 

*'  I  believe  it,  good,  true  heart ;  but  let  us  try  to  forget  the 
past,  and  make  ready  for  the  future.  First — tell  me  whether 
the  letter  you  took  for  me  yesterday  is  likely  to  reach  the  cabi- 
net of  his  majesty." 

"  Yes,  your  highness,"  replied  Conrad,  with  a  happy  smile. 
"  My  cousin  Lolo  washes  the  plate  at  the  Louvre,  and  is  en- 
gaged to  be  married  to  the  king's  second  valet.  I  gave  it  to 
her,  and  charged  her,  as  she  valued  her  salvation,  to  see  that 
Leblond  remitted  it." 

"So  far,  so  well,  then.  Order  ray  state-carriage,  livery, 
and  outriders ;  and  then  return  to  assist  me  in  dressing.  I 
must  go  to  court  in  half  an  hour." 

While  Eugene  was  preparing  to  visit  the  king,  his  majesty 
with  his  prime  minister  was  in  his  cabinet,  writing ;  while, 
not  too  far  to  be  out  of  reach  of  his  majesty's  admiring  eyes, 
sat  the  demure  De  Maintenon,  profoundly  engaged  in  tapestry- 
work.  The  conference  over,  Louis  signed  to  Louvois  to  gather 
up  the  papers  to  which  the  royal  signature  had  been  attached, 
and  to  take  his  leave.  Louvois  hastened  to  obey  ;  put  his 
portfolio  under  his  arm,  and  was  about  to  retire,  when  the 
king  bade  him  remain. 

**  Apropos,"  said  he,  "  I  was  about  to  forget  a  trifle  that  may 
as  well  be  attended  to.  I  have  received  a  letter  from  Prince 
Eugene  rf  Savoy.  There  is  a  vacancy  in  the  dragoons,  and 
the  little  prince  asks  for  it.    Methinks  it  can  be  granted." 

Louvois  smiled.  "  What,  your  majesty  I  Give  a  captaincy 
of  dragoons  to  that  poor  little  weakling  ?  Why,  he  would  not 
survive  one  single  campaign."    As  he  uttered  these  careleai 


178  PRINCE   EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

words,  he  glanced  at  the  marquise,  who  understood  him  at 
once. 

"  In  truth,"  observed  she,  in  her  soft,  musical  voice,  whose 
melody  was  as  bewitching  as  that  of  the  sea-maids  of  Sicily 
''  in  truth,  poor  Prince  Eugene  seems  as  unsuited  to  the  career 
of  a  soldier  as  to  that  of  an  ecclesiastic.  The  dissipated  and 
debauched  life  which,  in  imitation  of  his  mother,  he  has  led 
since  his  boyhood,  has  exhausted  his  energies.  He  is  pre- 
maturely old — older  far  than  your  majesty." 

A  complacent  smile  flitted  over  the  features  of  the  vain 
monarch.  "He  certainly  looked  more  dead  than  alive  the 
last  time  we  saw  him,  and  since  then  he  has  been  very  ill,  has 
he  not?" 

"Yes,"  replied  Louvois,  carelessly,  "and  for  a  long  time 
his  recovery  was  considered  doubtful." 

"  Madame  told  me  of  it,"  resumed  the  king.  "  She  seems 
very  much  interested  in  the  little  prince." 

"  Madame  is  the  impersonation  of  goodness,"  observed  De 
Maintenon,  "  and  by  her  very  innocence  is  unfitted  to  judge  of 
character.  The  old  Princess  de  Carignan  imposed  upon  her 
credulity  with  some  story  of  an  unhappy  attachment,  while 
veritably  his  illness  is  nothing  more  than  the  natural  conse- 
quence of  his  excesses." 

Louvois  thanked  his  coadjutor  with  a  second  glance,  and 
the  marquise  acknowledged  the  compliment  by  a  slight  incli- 
nation of  her  head,  imperceptible  to  the  king. 

"  Be  all  this  as  it  may,"  replied  the  latter,  "  I  cannot  refuse 
so  paltry  a  favor  to  the  nephew  of  Cardinal  Mazarin.  If  we 
do  no  more,  we  ought  at  least  to  throw  him  a  bone  to 
gnaw."* 

"  Sire,"  said  Louvois,  hastily,  "  you  do  not  know  Prince  Eu- 
gene. He  is  a  dangerous  man,  though  a  weakly  one,  for  he 
is  possessed  of  insatiable  ambition.  He  desires  renown  at  any 
price." 

"  At  any  price  ! "  repeated  Louis,  with  a  shrug.  "  Such  a 
poor  devil  as  that  covet  renown  at  any  price  ! " 

"  Sire  ! "  exclaimed  Louvois,  earnestly,  "  he  is  an  offshoot 

*  Louis'  own  words. — "  M^moires  de  Jeanne  d'Albret  de  Luynes,"  vol.  L, 
p.  85. 


THE  REPULSE.  179 

of  the  ambitious  house  of  Savoy,  and  a  stranger  besides. 
Strangers  always  bring  us  ill-luck." 

"You  are  right,"  interposed  the  marquise,  with  a  sigh. 
"Strangers  never  bring  us  any  but  ill-luck." 

Louis  turned  and  fixed  his  eyes  upon  her.  Their  glances 
met,  and  there  was  such  unequivocal  love  expressed  in  that  of 
the  pious  marquise,  that  her  royal  disciple  blushed  with  grati- 
fication.    He  went  up  to  her  and  extended  both  his  hands. 

She  took  them  passionately  within  her  own,  and  covered 
them  with  kisses.  Then  raising  her  eyes  pleadingly  to  his,  she 
whispered,  "  Sire,  he  is  the  son  of  his  mother  ;  and  if  your  ma- 
jesty show  him  favor,  I  shall  think  that  you  have  not  ceased 
to  love  the  Countess  de  Soissons,  and  my  heart  will  break." 

Louis  was  so  touched  by  the  charming  jealousy  uncon- 
sciously betrayed  by  these  words,  that  he  whispered  in  return  : 

"  I  will  prove,  then,  that  I  love  nobody  but  yourself." 

"  Be  so  good,"  added  he  aloud  to  Louvois,  "  as  to  say  to  the 
usher  that  the  Prince  of  Savoy  will  have  an  audience." 

This  being  equivalent  to  a  dismission,  Louvois  backed  out 
of  his  master's  presence,  and  retired.  As  he  was  passing 
through  the  antechamber,  congratulating  himself  upon  hav- 
ing effectually  muzzled  his  adversary,  the  minister  saw  his 
pale,  serious  face  at  the  door.  Eugene  was  in  the  act  of  desir- 
ing the  usher  to  announce  him. 

"  His  majesty  awaits  the  Prince  of  Savoy,"  said  Louvois, 
and  he  stepped  aside  to  allow  him  entrance. 

Eugene  came  in,  and  the  door  was  closed.  The  two  enemies 
were  alone,  face  to  face  ;  and  they  surveyed  each  other  as  two 
lions  might  do  on  the  eve  of  a  deathly  contest. 

"  It  has  pleased  you  to  make  an  attempt  to  beg  a  commis- 
sion in  the  army,  and  to  address  yourself  directly  to  the 
king,"  said  Louvois,  after  a  pause.  "  And  you  presumed  to 
do  so  without  the  intervention  of  his  majesty's  minister  of 
war.'* 

'*I  have  no  business  with  the  servants  of  his  majesty,'* 
replied  Eugene,  tranquilly.  "  If  I  have  a  request  to  make,  I 
address  it  to  the  king  my  kinsman,  and  require  no  influence 
of  his  subordinates^" 

**  Sir  I "  exclaimed  Louvois,  angrily,  "  I  counsel  you—" 


180  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

"  I  desire  no  counsel  from  a  man  whom  I  despise,"  inter- 
rupted Euf^ene. 

"  You  shall  give  me  satisfaction  for  this  word,"  returned 
Louvois,  laying  his  hand  on  his  sword.  "  You  are  a  noble- 
man, and  therefore—" 

"And  therefore,"  interrupted  Eugene  again,  "you  shall 
have  no  satisfaction  from  me,  for  you  are  not  a  nobleman, 
and  I  shall  not  measure  swords  with  you.  Peace,  monsieur," 
continued  he,  as  Louvois  was  about  to  insult  him,  "  we  are  in 
the  antechamber  of  the  king,  and  a  servant  may  not  resent  his 
grievances  within  earshot  of  his  master.  Take  care  that  you 
become  not  too  obstreperous,  lest  1  publish  to  the  world  the 
story  of  your  crimes  toward  your  unhappy  daughter.  And 
now  let  me  pass  :  the  king  awaits  me." 

With  these  words  Eugene  crossed  the  antechamber,  and 
stood  near  the  door  that  led  to  the  king's  cabinet.  There  he 
stopped,  and,  addressing  the  indignant  minister — 

"  Now,  sir,"  said  he,  imperatively,  "  you  can  go  out  to  the 
vestibule  and  send  the  usher  to  announce  me  to  his  majesty." 

Louvois  made  a  rush  at  the  prince,  and  almost  shrieked 
with  rage.     "  Sir,  this  insolence — " 

But  at  that  moment  the  door  of  the  king's  cabinet  opened, 
and  the  voice  of  Louis  asked,  "Who  presumes  to  speak  so 
loud  ? "  His  angry  glances  were  launched  first  at  one  and 
then  at  the  other  ofi'ender,  and,  as  neither  made  any  reply,  his 
majesty  resumed : 

"  Ah,  you  are  there,  little  abbe  ?  You  asked  for  an  audi- 
ence :  it  is  granted." 

He  returned  to  his  cabinet,  Eugene  following.  The  mar- 
quise was  assiduously  occupied  with  her  tapestry,  but  her  large 
eyes  were  raised  for  one  glance  ;  then,  as  quickly  casting  them 
down,  she  appeared  to  be  absorbed  in  her  embroidery. 

The  king  threw  himself  carelessly  back  in  an  arm-chair, 
and  signed  to  Eugene  to  advance. 

"  You  would  like  to  command  a  company  of  dragoons  ? " 
said  Louis,  shortly. 

"  Such  is  my  desire,  your  majesty.  I  wish  to  become  a  sol- 
dier ;  I  hope — a  brave  one." 

Louis  surveyed  him  with  scorn.     "I  cannot  grant  your 


THE  REPULSE.  181 

request^"  said  he.  "You  are  too  sickly  to  enter  my  serv- 
ice." 

He  then  rose  from  his  chair  and  turned  his  back.  This  of 
course  signified  that  the  audience  was  at  an  end  ;  but,  to  his 
unspeakable  astonishment,  he  felt  the  touch  of  a  hand  upon 
his  arm,  and,  turning  round,  beheld  Eugene  1 

"  Is  that  all  your  majesty  has  to  say  to  me  ? "  said  the 
prince. 

"  That  is  all,"  cried  Louis,  imperiously.  ''  The  audience  is 
at  an  end — begone  ! " 

**Not  yet,"  replied  Eugene,  "not  yet." 

Madame  de  Maintenon  uttered  a  cry  of  horror,  and  her 
tapestry  fell  from  her  hands. 

"  Do  you  know  that  you  are  a  traitor  ? "  exclaimed  the 
king. 

"  No,  sire.  I  am  but  a  man  who,  driven  to  despair,  can  no 
longer  withhold  the  cry  of  a  heart  wrung  by  every  species  of 
contumely  and  injustice.  Were  I  tamely  to  submit  to  all  that 
you  have  done  to  wound  me,  I  were  a  hound  unfit  to  bear  the 
name  of  nobleman.  By  the  memory  of  Cardinal  Mazarin, 
your  benefactor,  nay,  more,  the  spouse  of  your  mother,  I  claim 
the  right  to  remonstrate  with  your  majesty,  and  to  ask  you  to 
reverse  your  decision." 

"  You  have  summoned  to  your  aid  a  name  which  I  have 
ever  cherished  and  honored,"  replied  Louis.  *'  For  his  sake  I 
grant  you  fifteen  minutes'  audience.  Be  quick,  then,  and  say 
what  you  will  at  once." 

**  Then,  sire,  may  I  ask  if  you  remember  the  solemn  promise 
you  made  to  the  cardinal  on  his  death-bed  ? " 

"I  do." 

**To  the  man  who,  during  your  minority,  transformed  a 
distracted  country  into  a  powerful  and  peaceful  empire,  you 
promised  friendship  and  protection  for  his  kindred.  But  how 
has  this  promise  been  fulfilled  ?  The  family  of  Mazarin  have, 
one  and  all,  been  given  over  to  persecution  and  injustice,  and 
that  by  a  sovereign  who — " 

"  Prince,"  cried  Louis,  "  you  forget  that  you  address  your 
king!" 

*'  My  king  I  when  has  your  conduct  ever  been  to  me  that 


182  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

of  a  king,  and  therefore  of  a  father  ?  I  know  that  my  uncle 
was  once  king  of  the  King  of  France  ;  and  by  the  God  above 
us  !  he  was  a  gracious  monarch,  for  he  left  to  his  successor  a 
prosperous  kingdom  and  an  overflowing  treasury  !  " 

"  Which  was  not  fuller  than  his  own  private  purse,"  re- 
torted Louis. 

"  The  cardinal  named  you  his  heir,  sire — why  did  you  not 
accept  the  heritage  ? " 

''  Because  I  would  not  enrich  myself  at  the  expense  of  his 
family,"  replied  Louis,  haughtily. 

*'  Because  you  knew  very  well  that  what  you  affected  to 
relinquish,  that  the  world  might  admire  your  magnanimity, 
you  intended  to  take  back  by  piecemeal.  And  to  do  this,  you 
have  persecuted  the  unhappy  family  of  your  best  friend  with 
an  ingenuity  of  malice  that  is  beneath  the  dignity  not  only  of 
your  station,  but  of  your  manhood  !  " 

"  Sire,"  cried  Madame  de  Maintenon,  hastening  to  the  king, 
"  I  beseech  you,  drive  from  your  presence  this  insolent  mad- 
man." 

"  Let  him  speak,"  said  Louis,  in  a  voice  of  suppressed  rage. 
"I  wish  to  see  how  far  he  will  carry  his  presumption." 

"  Sire,  it  reaches  past  your  crown,  as  far  as  the  judgment- 
seat  of  God,  where  it  stands  as  your  accuser.  Sire,  what  have 
we  done  to  merit  your  aversion  ?  My  mother — that  you  al- 
lowed your  minions  to  traduce  and  drive  her  into  exile  ?  My 
father — who  fought  and  bled  for  you,  that  you  offered  him 
public  insult,  and  so  wounded  his  proud  spirit,  that  he  died 
from  the  effects  of  your  cruelty  ?  My  sisters— that  you  have 
robbed  them  of  their  patrimony  !  And  I ! — what  have  I  done 
that  you  should  hold  me  up  to  the  mockery  of  your  court,  and 
deny  me  the  paltry  boon  of  a  petty  commission  in  your  army  ? 
I  had  forgiven  your  public  affronts,  so  unworthy  of  a  king 
and  a  gentleman  ;  and  I  had  offered  my  hand  and  sword  to 
your  majesty  as  proofs  of  my  loyalty  and  superiority  to  resent- 
ment. As  a  kinsman  and  your  subject  you  have  repulsed  me  : 
for  the  future,  know  me  as  an  alien  and  enemy." 

The  king  laughed  scornfully.  "  Puny  braggart,  what  care 
I  for  your  enmity  ? " 

"  Time  will  show,  sire  ;  and,  as  truly  as  a  lion  once  owed 


THE  REPULSE,  183 

his  life  to  a  mouse,  your  majesty  will  repent  of  your  injustice 
to  me." 

"  I  never  repent,"  returned  the  king,  hastily. 

"  A  day  of  repentance  must  come  for  all  who  have  sinned, 
and  it  must  dawn  for  you.  Beware  lest  it  come  so  late  that 
the  prayers  of  yonder  sanctimonious  marquise  avail  you  noth- 
ing." 

•'  By  heavens  !  *'  cried  the  king,  starting  from  his  seat  and 
clutching  his  bell,  "  my  patience  is  exhausted.  This  arch-trai- 
tor shall—" 

But  Madame  de  Maintenon  was  at  his  side  in  a  moment. 
"  Sire,"  said  she,  beseechingly,  ''  in  the  name  of  the  love  and 
loyalty  I  bear  my  sovereign,  pardon  this  misguided  youth. 
Eemember  that  the  highest  prerogative  of  power  is  the  exer- 
cise of  mercy.  I,  for  my  part,  forgive  him  freely,  and  I  thank 
God  that  I  am  here  to  mediate  between  him  and  your  majesty's 
just  anger." 

''  You  are  an  angel,"  cried  Louis,  clasping  her  hand  in  his 
own,  and  covering  them  with  kisses.  "You  are  an  angel 
whom  Grod  has  sent  for  my  happiness  in  this  world  and  the 
next."  And  turning  to  Eugene  with  a  lofty  gesture,  he  said  : 
"  Go,  young  man.  Madame  de  Maintenon's  magnanimity  has 
earned  your  pardon.  Go — that  I  may  forget  you  and  your 
existence." 

"Sire,"  replied  Eugene  with  emphasis,  "I  do  not  intend 
that  you  shall  forget  me.  In  your  pride  of  power,  you  have 
likened  yourself  to  a  god,  but,  great  as  you  are,  you  shall  rue 
the  day  on  w^hich  Eugene  of  Savoy  turned  his  back  upon  your 
kingdom  ! " 

"So  you  persist  in  believing  yourself  to  be  a  man,  do 
you?" 

"  Yes,  sire  ;  such  is  my  conviction.  I  aim  at  renown,  and, 
in  spite  of  my  enemies,  of  my  poverty,  and  of  my  friendless 
condition,  I  have  strength  and  energy  to  attain  it.  I  am  no 
longer  a  subject  of  France.  I  bid  farewell  to  my  country  for- 
ever." 

With  a  slight  inclination  of  his  head,  and  without  waiting 
for  permission,  he  turned  his  back,  and  left  the  room. 

Louis  gazed  upon  his  receding  figure,  with  an  expression 
IB 


184  PRINCE   EUGENE   AND  HIS  TIMES. 

so  strange,  that  Madame  de  Maintenon  in  great  alarm  flew  to 
his  side.  His  eyes  were  fixed,  and  great  drops  of  sweat  stood 
out  upon  his  forehead.  The  marquise  wiped  them  away  with 
her  handkerchief,  all  the  while  whispering  words  of  tender 
encouragement. 

Louis  shivered,  and  seemed  like  one  awakening  from  a 
dream.  His  eyelids  fell,  the  strained  eyeballs  moved,  and  he 
tried  to  smile. 

"  Dearest  friend,"  said  he, ''  I  know  not  what  has  happened; 
but,  as  the  Prince  of  Savoy  disappeared  from  my  sight,  a  voice 
seemed  to  speak  to  my  soul,  and  say  that  his  threats  had  been 
prophetic,  and  that  I  would  dearly  rue  the  day  on  which  the 
nephew  of  Mazarin  had  left  me  in  anger.  Can  such  things 
be  ?  or  am  I  the  sport  of — " 

"Sire,  sovereign,  beloved,"  cried  the  marquise,  kneeling 
and  clasping  his  knees  in  her  arras,  "give  no  heed  to  this 
mocking  voice.  'Tis  but  a  temptation  of  the  Evil  One.  Let 
us  pray  together." 

"  Yes,  let  us  pray.  Send  for  Pere  la  Chaise,  and  let  us 
away  to  the  chapel." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  FAREWELL. 

Prince  Eugene,  meanwhile,  was  on  his  way  to  visit  the 
Duchess  of  Orleans.  She  met  him  with  unaffected  cordiality, 
and  gave  him  a  hearty  welcome. 

"  Indeed,"  said  she,  extending  both  her  hands,  "  I  am  re- 
joiced to  see  you  again.  I  made  you  many  a  visit  of  inquiry 
during  your  illness  ;  and  it  pained  me  deeply  to  hear  from 
your  grandmother  that  no  effort  of  those  who  love  you  had  so 
far  prevailed  upon  you  to  leave  your  room.  I  am  glad  to  see 
that  your  heart  is  returning  to  us,  for  you  know  that  I  am 
foremost  in  the  rank  of  your  friends." 

"  I  know  it,  gracious  lady,"  said  Eugene,  feelingly, "  and  for 
that  reason  I  am  here." 

"  And  although  you  are  pale,  you  are  looking  well.    You 


THE  FAREWELL.  185 

have  a  brave  spirit,  Eugene,  and  have  met  your  sorrow  like  a 
man." 

"  Yes.  Suffering  has  made  a  man  of  me,  and  he  that  has 
received  its  chrism  with  courage  has  overcome  grief.  I  have 
come  to  give  your  highness  a  proof  of  my  fortitude.  I" — 
but  he  paused,  and  his  face  grew  of  a  deadly  pallor,  while  a 
convulsive  sigh  was  upheaved  from  his  bosom. 

"  Speak,  poor  boy,"  said  the  duchess,  compassionately. 

"  I  wanted  to  ask  if  your  highness  has  news  from  the  Mar- 
chioness de  Bonaletta  ? "  resumed  he,  with  an  effort. 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  duchess,  mournfully. 

"  Has  she  written  to  you  ? "  was  the  hurried  rejoinder. 

The  duchess  shook  her  head.  "  She  has  not,  and  thereby  I 
judge  that  she  is  closely  watched.  For,  if  my  darling  were 
free  to  do  so,  she  would  long  ago  have  poured  her  sorrows  into 
my  heart.  Sometimes  I  feel  her  soft  arms  twining  about  my 
neck,  and  hear  her  voice,  as,  in  the  simplicity  of  her  trust,  she 
said  to  me  one  day  :  '  Pray  for  me,  that  I  may  never  love,  for 
if  I  should,  I  would  forsake  every  thing  for  the  man  of  my 
choice — even  yourself,  my  best  friend.' " 

"  She  spoke  thus  ? "  cried  Eugene,  brightening. 

"  She  did  ;  and,  not  long  after,  she  glided  up  to  me,  and, 
giving  me  a  kiss,  said  :  '  I  have  found  him,  I  have  found  him 
— him  whom  I  shall  love  throughout  all  eternity.'  'Gracious 
Heavens  ! '  I  exclaimed,  *  it  is  not  Prince  Eugene  1 '  whereupon 
she  kissed  me  again,  and  said,  '  But  it  t8  he  ;  and  I  shall  love 
him  forever  I '  " 

"  Ah  !  I  thought  I  had  been  stronger  ! "  murmured  Eugene, 
his  eyes  filling  with  tears.  "  I  had  armed  myself  against  mis- 
fortune, but  the  memory  of  her  love  unmans  me." 

"  Poor  Eugene  1  I  have  been  thoughtlessly  cruel :  forgive 
me,  for  you  are  the  first  one  to  whom  I  have  dared,  as  yet,  to 
mention  her  name.  Let  me  not  probe  your  wounds  further, 
but  tell  you  at  once  what  I  know.  I  have  heard  from  Laura 
through  the  medium  of  her  father  only.  The  day  after  her 
shameful  immolation,  he  communicated  his  daughter's  mar- 
riage to  the  king  ;  and,  the  evening  after,  gave  a  grand  ball  in 
honor  of  the  event.  He  excused  her  absence,  and  the  secrecy 
attending  her  wedding,  by  saying  that  her  betrothed  having 


186  PRINCE   EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

been  suddenly  summoned  away,  he  had  yielded  to  the  solicita- 
tion of  the  lovers,  and  had  consented  to  have  them  married 
without  formality. " 

"  Liar  and  deceiver  ! "  cried  Eugene,  gnashing  his  teeth. 

"  Ay,  indeed,  liar  and  deceiver ! "  echoed  the  duchess. 
"  And  I  had  to  sit  there,  and  hear  him  congratulated ;  and  lis- 
ten to  the  flattering  comments  of  his  guests,  every  one  of 
whom  knew  that  not  a  word  of  truth  was  being  spoken  on 
either  side.  Of  course  I  had  no  choice  whether  to  absent  my- 
self or  not  ;  I  was  ordered  to  appear,  and  to  confirm  the  lie. 
And  once  or  twice,  when  my  face  unconsciously  expressed  my 
indignation,  my  husband  was  at  hand  to  remind  me  that  my 
lady  of  the  bedchamber  had  married  with  my  consent  and 
approbation  !  The  day  after,  Louvois  distributed  largesses 
among  his  household,  and  bestowed  princely  sums  upon  the 
poor,  all  in  honor  of  the  happy  event  !  For  a  whole  week  I 
could  neither  eat  nor  sleep  for  grief  and  anger.  I  can  never 
recover  from  this  blow.  If  you  had  robbed  me  of  Laura,  I 
could  have  forgotten  my  own  loss  in  her  gain  ;  but  to  know 
that  she  is  chained  to  the  galley  of  an  unhappy  marriage 
almost  breaks  my  heart ! " 

•'  She  is  not  chained  to  that  galley,"  said  Eugene;  "  the  oath 
she  took  was  not  to  the  man  whom  the  world  calls  her  hus- 
band—it was  pledged  to  me.  But  do  not  fear  that  I  will  lay 
claim  to  her,  duchess.  Far  be  it  from  me  to  take  one  step  that 
could  endanger  her  safety,  or  unsettle  her  convictions.  If  she 
considers  the  oath  binding  which  she  took  to  one  man,  suppos- 
ing him  to  be  another,  I  will  bear  my  fate  with  resignation ; 
but  if  she  scorns  the  lie  that  calls  her  his  wife,  she  will  find 
means  to  let  me  Icnow  it ;  and,  let  her  summons  come  when  it 
may,  I  shall  be  ready  to  obey  it.  Let  her  heart  seek  mine,  and 
1  will  take  care  that  renown  shall  tell  her  where  to  find 
me." 

"  I  feared  as  much,"  said  the  duchess.  "  I  knew  that  you 
would  not  remain  at  this  false,  corrupt  court.  Whither  do 
you  travel  ? " 

"  I  shall  follow  my  brother.  Your  highness  knows  that  he 
was  banished  for  having  married  the  girl  whom  he  loved, 
whose  only  fault  was  her  obscure  birth.     He  is  in  the  service 


THE  FAREWELL.  187 

of  the  Emperor  of  Austria  ;  and,  if  his  imperial  majesty  will 
accept  of  me,  I,  too,  will  join  the  Austrian  army." 

''  And  you  will  live  to  replace  the  lost  myrtles  of  your  love 
with  the  laurels  of  fame." 

"  Grod  grant  that  you  may  be  a  true  prophetess  I  And  now, 
your  highness,  I  have  one  more  favor  to  ask.  May  I  visit  the 
room  in  which  I  saw  her  last  ? " 

"  Come.  We  can  take  a  turn  in  the  park,  and  enter  the 
pavilion  as  if  by  accident.     Every  thing  is  just  as  she  left  it." 

Accompanied  by  two  maids  of  honor,  and  followed  at  a 
distance  by  two  lackeys,  they  descended  to  the  gardens.  For 
a  time  they  confined  their  stroll  to  the  principal  walks  ;  but 
when  they  had  reached  the  pathway  that  led  to  the  pavilion, 
the  duchess,  turning  to  her  maids  of  honor,  requested  them  to 
await  her  at  the  intersection  of  the  avenues,  and  continued  her 
way  with  the  prince.  Not  a  word  was  spoken  on  either  side 
until  they  had  ascended  the  steps  leading  to  the  room  where, 
in  one  short  hour,  Eugene  had  seen  the  birth  and  death  of  his 
ephemeral  happiness. 

He  opened  the  door  ;  then,  standing  on  the  threshold,  gazed 
mournfully  around  him.  Not  an  object  in  the  room  was  miss- 
ing. There,  in  the  embi^asure  of  the  window,  stood  her  harp  ; 
there,  on  the  table,  lay  her  books  and  di'a wings ;  and  there, 
alas  1  hung  the  silver  chandelier  whose  solitary  light  was  to 
have  guided  him  to  his  bridal.  Every  thing  was  there,  as  be- 
fore, and  yet  nothing  remained,  for  she,  who  had  been  the  soul 
of  the  habitation,  had  left  it  forever  1 

And  now,  as  his  wandering  gaze  rested  upon  the  arm-chair 
where,  kneeling  at  her  feet,  he  had  received  the  intoxicating 
confession  of  her  love,  he  started  forward,  and,  burying  his 
face  in  its  cushions,  wept  aloud. 

The  duchess,  meanwhile,  had  remained  outside  on  the  per- 
ron.  She  would  not  invade  the  sanctity  of  Eugene's  grief  by 
her  presence,  for  she  felt  that,  in  a  moment  of  such  supreme 
agony,  the  soul  would  be  alone  with  its  Maker. 

Presently  she  heard  the  door  open  and  Eugene  joined  her 
on  the  balcony.  For  a  while  he  looked  at  her  in  silence  ;  then 
bis  lips  began  to  move,  and  she  caught  these  words,  uttered  al- 
most inaudibly : 


188  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

"  I  am  about  to  go.     Will  you  grant  me  one  more  request  ?  '^ 

"  Yes— what  is  it  ? " 

"You  told  me  that,  when  she  confided  to  you  her  love  for 
me,  she  put  her  arms  around  your  neck,  and  kissed  you.  May 
I  have  that  kissi  from  your  lips,  dear  duchess  ? " 

Instead  of  a  reply,  Elizabeth  embraced  the  poor  youth. 
"  God  bless  you,  Eugene  ! "  said  she,  fondly.  "  Go  forth  into 
the  world  to  fight  the  battle  of  life,  and  win  it." 


CHAPTER  V. 

A  PAGE  FROM  HISTORY. 

The  year  1683  was  full  of  significance  for  Austria.  It  was 
a  period  of  victory  and  defeat,  of  triumph  and  humiliation. 
Austria's  wounds  were  many  and  dangerous,  but  her  cure  was 
rapid.  In  the  spring  of  this  momentous  year  she  was  threat- 
ened simultaneously  from  the  East  and  the  West,  and  she  had 
every  reason  to  fear  that  she  would  be  similarly  assailed  from 
her  northern  and  southern  frontiers. 

Her  troubles  originated,  as  they  had  often  done  before, 
with  Hungary — that  land  of  haughty  Magyars  and  enthusias- 
tic patriots.  Leopold  I.  ascended  the  throne  in  1658,  and  from 
that  time  forward  every  year  of  his  reign  had  been  marked  by 
intestine  wars.  Sometimes,  by  force  of  numbers,  the  rebellious 
Hungarians  were,  for  a  time,  held  in  subjection  ;  but  the  fire 
of  patriotism,  though  smothered,  was  never  extinguished  in 
their  hearts.  Deep  buried  under  the  ashes  of  many  a  deluded 
hope,  it  lived  on,  until  some  friendly  breath  of  encouragement 
fanned  it  to  activity,  and  its  flames  leaped  upward,  and  defied 
the  emperor  anew. 

Hungary  would  not  submit  to  be  considered  as  a  provincial 
dependency  on  Austria.  She  claimed  the  constitutional  rights 
guaranteed  to  her  from  time  immemorial,  and  recorded  in  the 
golden  bull  of  King  Andreas.  In  1654  the  Emperor  Ferdinand 
had  promised,  both  for  himself  and  his  successors,  that  this 
constitution  should  be  held  inviolate  ;  that  all  foreign  troops 


A  PAGE  FROM  HISTORY.  189 

should  be  withdrawn  from  Hungary,  while  no  Hungarians 
should  be  called  upon  to  fight  elsewhere  than  on  their  native 
soil ;  that  the  crown  lands  were  to  be  inalienable  ;  all  offices 
bestowed  upon  native-born  Hungarians  ;  Protestants  secured 
in  the  exercise  of  their  religion  ;  and  no  war  undertaken,  nor 
treaty  concluded,  with  any  foreign  power,  without  the  consent 
of  the  Hungarian  Diet. 

The  Emperor  Leopold  had  promised  to  ratify  the  constitu- 
tion. But,  in  1664,  Austria  declared  war  against  Turkey,  and 
called  for  money  and  troops  from  Hungary.  The  Magyars, 
not  having  been  consulted  as  to  |;he  expediency  of  the  war, 
refused  to  have  any  thing  to  do  with  it.  With  the  help  of 
France,  peace  was  made  with  the  Porte  ;  and,  as  soon  as  his 
foreign  difficulties  were  settled,  Leopold  bethought  himself  of 
his  turbulent  Hungarians  at  home.  Austrian  troops  were 
marched  into  Hungary,  and  the  Protestant  Magyars,  in  the 
enjoyment  of  high  offices,  were  superseded  by  Catholics. 

The  indignation  of  the  Hungarians  knew  no  bounds.  They 
took  up  arms,  and  swore  never  to  lay  them  down  until  they 
had  freed  their  native  land.  The  revolution  broke  out  in  1670  ; 
and  such  was  the  fanaticism  of  the  patriots,  that  their  banners 
bore  the  cross  as  their  emblem,  and  every  soldier  wore  a  cross 
upon  his  shoulder.  By  this  sign  they  swore  eternal  enmity  to 
the  detested  Austrian  lancers ;  and,  however  they  might  be 
outnumbered,  they  hoped  in  Grod,  and  rushed  by  thousands  to 
fill  up  the  ranks  whence  thousands  had  fallen.  Undaunted 
by  reverses,  xmdismayed  by  danger,  new  armies  of  warriors 
seemed  to  spring  from  the  blood  of  the  slain.  Nor  were  the 
brave  Hungarians  without  sympathy  in  their  struggle  for  free- 
dom ;  they  had  allies  both  powerful  and  efficient. 

Two  of  their  ablest  generals,  Zriny  and  Frangipany,  had 
fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  Austrians,  and  had  perished  igno- 
miniously  on  the  scaffold ;  and  another  hero.  Count  T6k61y» 
had  fallen  at  the  siege  of  Arva.  But  his  son  survived,  a  boy 
who  had  been  rescued  from  the  enemy  and  conveyed  to  Tran- 
sylvania. There  he  was  taught  to  hate  the  oppressors  of  his 
country  ;  and  no  sooner  was  he  of  an  age  to  serve,  than  he  en- 
tered the  army.  He  brought  with  him  succor  from  Prince 
Apafy,  of  Transylvania,  and  the  promise  of  aid  from  the  Porte. 


190  PRINCE   EUGENE   AND   HIS  TIMES. 

Fired  by  the  entliusiasm  of  young  Emerich  Tokoly,  the  Hun« 
garians  renewed  the  contest  with  Leopold,  and  fortune  so  fa- 
vored their  youthful  leader,  that  he  conquered  Upper  Hungary, 
marched  to  Presburg,  drove  out  the  Austrians,  and  called  an 
imperial  Diet  to  consult  as  to  the  propriety  of  deposing  the 
Emperor  Leopold  from  the  throne  of  Hungary. 

But  Emerich  did  not  tarry  at  Presburg  to  attend  the  Diet. 
He  marched  on  to  Buda  to  confer  with  Kara  Mustapha,  the 
grand- vizier  of  Mohammed  IV.,  on  the  affairs  of  Hungary. 
The  victories  of  the  young  hero  had  more  effect  upon  Mustapha 
than  any  amount  of  pleading  could  have  done  ;  he  was  there- 
fore prepared  to  receive  him  favorably.  Mustapha  was  am- 
bitious, covetous,  and  vindictive  ;  he  had  latterly  felt  some 
uneasiness  as  to  the  security  of  his  own  influence  with  the 
Sultan,  and  he  burned  to  reinstate  himself  by  gaining  a  victory 
or  two  over  the  Austrians.  Moreover,  he  thought  of  the  booty 
which  would  follow  each  victory  ;  and,  in  the  hope  of  retriev- 
ing his  defeat  at  St.  Gotthard's,  he  concluded  a  treaty  with 
Count  Emerich,  which  was  specially  directed  against  Austria. 
He  promised,  in  the  Sultan's  name,  arms,  money,  and  men  ; 
and,  as  an  earnest  of  the  friendship  of  his  new  ally,  Emerich 
was  declared  King  of  Hungary. 

Under  the  ruined  walls  of  the  fortress  of  Fulek,  which 
Emerich  had  taken  from  the  enemy,  Mustapha  handed  him 
the  diploma  of  royalty  which  had  been  drawn  up  in  Constan- 
tinople ;  at  the  same  time  bestowing  upon  him  the  rank  of  a 
Turkish  general,  and  presenting  him  with  a  standard  and  a 
horsetail. 

The  newly-appointed  king  pledged  himself,  in  return,  to 
consider  the  Sultan  as  his  lord-paramount,  and  to  pay  him  a 
yearly  tribute  of  forty  thousand  florins.  He  was  so  elated 
with  his  title,  and  so  desirous  of  humiliating  Austria,  that,  to 
free  himself  from  the  emperor,  he  consented  to  become  a  vas- 
sal of  the  Porte.  He  signed  the  treaty,  whereupon  Kara  Mus- 
tapha rejected  the  proposals  of  alliance  which  Leopold  was 
making,  and  began  to  dream  of  extending  the  dominion  of  the 
Crescent,  and  of  founding  a  Moslem  empire  in  the  West,  whose 
capital  should  be  Vienna.  He  dismissed  the  Austrian  ambas- 
sadors with  cold  indifference,  and  promised  the  Sultan  that  the 


A  PAGE  FROM  fflSTORY.  191 

green  banner  of  the  Prophet  should  carry  terror  and  devasta- 
tion into  the  very  heart  of  Austria.  This  was  the  danger 
which  threatened  the  emperor  from  the  East.  He  had  equally 
powerful  enemies  in  the  West.  Hungary  had  sent  ambassa- 
dors to  the  court  of  Louis  XIV.  These  ambassadors  had  been 
received  in  Paris  as  the  accredited  envoys  of  an  independent 
and  recognized  kingdom  ;  and  King  Louis,  a  son  of  the  Catho- 
lic Church,  had  carried  his  hatred  to  Austria  so  far,  that  he 
entered  into  a  secret  alliance  with  the  unbelieving  Porte,  and 
promised  assistance  to  the  Protestant  rebels  of  Hungary.  This 
assistance  he  sent  at  once  in  the  form  of  money  and  arms. 
French  officers  were  dispatched  to  Hungary,  to  join  the  insur- 
gents and  discipline  their  soldiers.  And,  while  Louis  was  se- 
cretly upholding  Turkey  and  Hungary,  he  was  calling  councils 
at  home  to  establish  claims  to  a  portion  of  the  imperial  domin- 
ions of  Austria. 

These  juridical  councils  were  established  at  Metz  and  Bri- 
sach,  and  they  had  instructions  from  Louis  to  reannex  to  his 
crown  all  the  domains  which  had  ever  been  held  in  fief  by 
any  of  his  predecessors,  however  remote.  They  began  by 
summoning  the  lords  of  the  Trois-Eveches  to  acknowledge 
their  vassalage  to  France  ;  and  they  went  on  to  cite  before 
their  tribunal  the  Elector  Palatine,  the  King  of  Spain,  and 
the  King  of  Sweden  ;  all  and  each  of  whom  were  called  upon 
to  do  homage  to  the  king,  or  have  their  possessions  seques- 
trated. 

All  Europe  was  aghast  at  these  monstrous  pretensions,  but 
nobody  ventured  to  put  them  down,  for  Louis  had  a  standing 
army  of  one  hundred  and  forty  thousand  men,  while  the 
German  empire,  still  suffering  from  its  losses  in  the  Thirty 
Years'  War,  could  scarcely  put  into  the  field  one-third  of  this 
number. 

So  that,  without  the  drawing  of  a  sword,  Louis  was  suffered 
to  possess  himself  of  the  important  city  of  Strasburg,  and  sub* 
sequently  of  all  Alsatia.  Finally  he  claimed  the  cloister  of 
Wasserburg  and  the  province  of  Germersheim,  and  pushed  his 
greed  and  arrogance  to  such  a  height,  that  Germany  at  last 
awakened  from  her  lethargy,  and  found  resolution  enough  to 
protest  against  the  aggressions  of  this  royal  robber.    Louis, 


192  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

in  return,  proposed  to  call  a  universal  council  at  Frankfort, 
and  have  his  claims  investigated.  This  was  agreed  to,  and 
each  sovereign  sent  his  plenipotentiaries.  Meanwhile  the 
King  of  France  kept  possession  of  all  the  lauds  in  dispute,  and 
stationed  his  troops  at  Strasburg,  and  at  every  other  town  in 
Alsatia. 

Here  was  danger  enough  for  the  Emperor  Leopold,  from 
the  west ;  while,  north  and  south,  his  horizon  darkened  also. 
The  ambitious  Victor  Amadeus,  seeing  that  Austria  was  en- 
compassed by  enemies,  now  bethought  himself  of  annexing 
Lombardy  to  his  dominions,  while  there  was  every  reason  to 
fear  that  the  bold  and  enterprising  Peter  the  Great  would  ex- 
tend his  frontiers  to  the  Baltic  Sea,  and,  with  quite  as  much 
right  as  Louis  ever  had  to  Strasburg,  declare  Dantzic  to  be  a 
part  of  his  Russian  territories. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  EMPEROR  LEOPOLD  I. 

The  Emperor  Leopold  had  just  returned  from  early  mass. 
Throughout  the  services,  and  during  the  excellent  sermon  of 
his  celebrated  court-preacher  Father  Abraham,  the  face  of  his 
imperial  majesty  had  worn  a  troubled  aspect ;  it  had  not  even 
brightened  at  the  appearance  of  the  Empress  Eleonora.  But 
when,  in  his  cabinet,  he  saw  his  professor  of  music,  Herr 
Kircher,  Leopold  smiled,  and  his  brow  cleared  at  once.  The 
professor  was  occupied  in  putting  a  new  string  to  the  emperor's 
spinet,  which  the  evening  before  had  been  broken  by  his  ma- 
jesty at  a  concert ;  and,  having  his  back  turned  to  the  door, 
was  not  aware  of  the  emperor's  entrance  until  the  latter  laid 
his  hand  upon  Kircher's  shoulder. 

The  musician  would  have  risen,  but  Leopold  gently  forced 
him  back  into  his  seat,  observing  that  it  was  unbecoming  in  a 
teacher  to  rise  at  the  entrance  of  his  pupil. 

"  Of  his  pupil,  your  majesty,  to  whom  there  remains  noth- 
ing for  a  teacher  to  teach  ;  for  in  good  sooth,  if  your  majesty 


THE  EMPEROR  LEOPOLD  I.  19^ 

felt  disposed,  you  are  competent  to  fill  the  chair  of  a  musical 
professorship,  or  to  become  the  maestro  of  your  own  imperial 
chapel." 

"I  prefer  my  own  position,"  replied  Leopold,  laughing,  "al- 
though there  are  times  when  the  berth  of  an  emperor  is  not 
an  easy  one.  But  when  as  at  present  I  am  here  with  you, 
then  I  am  truly  happy,  for  your  conversation  and  music 
awaken  in  me  pleasant  thoughts  and  noble  aspirations.  Let 
me  enjoy  the  hour,  for  indeed,  Kircher,  I  need  recreation." 

The  emperor  sighed,  and  sank  slowly  into  an  arm-chair, 
where,  taking  off  his  plumed  hat,  he  threw  it  wearily  down 
on  a  tabouret  close  by. 

"  Has  your  majesty  any  cause  for  vexation  ? "  asked  Kircher. 

"  Not  for  vexation,  but  much  for  sorrow,"  returned  Leo- 
pold. "  Let  me  forget  it,  and  if  you  have  no  objection,  take 
up  that  piece  of  music  on  the  table,  and  give  me  your  opinion 
of  it" 

Professor  Kircher  obeyed  at  once.  "Your  majesty  has 
been  composing,  I  perceive,  and  your  composition  is  in  strict 
accordance  with  the  rules  of  counterpoint." 

"  I  have  translated  my  sorrows  into  music,"  returned  Leo- 
pold. "  I  could  not  sleep  last  night,  and  there  was  running 
through  my  head  the  words  of  a  sad  and  beautiful  Latin 
poem.  I  rose  from  my  bed,  and  treading  softly  so  as  not  to 
disturb  the  empress,  I  came  hither,  and  set  the  poem  to  music. 
It  gave  me  indescribable  pleasure,  and  I  wish  you  would  try 
it^  that  I  may  know  whether  my  interpretation  has  meaning 
for  others  as  well  as  for  myself." 

*'  My  voice  will  not  do  it  justice,  your  majesty  ;  let  me  call 
Vittorio  Carambini  to  sing  it,  while  I  accompany  him." 

"No,"  returned  Leopold.  "Carambini's  voice  would  sa 
beautify  my  composition,  that  I  would  not  recognize  it.  I 
prefer  to  hear  it  from  you.  So  sit  you  down,  dear  Klircher,  and 
begin." 

Kircher  made  no  further  opposition,  and  commenced  the 
prelude.  The  emperor  leaned  back  his  head,  and  closed  his 
eyes,  as  he  was  accustomed  to  do,  when  listening  attentively. 
Beclining  among  the  purple-velvet  cushions  of  his  luxurious 
arm-chair,  Leopold  presented  a  handsome  picture  of  imperial 


194  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

comeliness.  His  fine  figure  was  set  off  to  advantage  by  his 
close-fitting  Spanish  doublet  of  black  velvet ;  his  short  Span- 
ish cloak,  looped  up  with  large  diamond  solitaires,  fell  in 
graceful  folds  from  his  shoulders,  gently  stirring  with  its 
golden  fringe  the  feathers  of  his  hat  that  lay  beside  him.  The 
pale,  regular  features  of  the  emperor  harmonized  with  the 
splendid  costume  which,  from  the  days  of  Charles  V.,  had 
been  in  fashion  at  the  imperial  court  of  Vienna.  Leopold  had 
made  one  modification,  however,  in  his  dress.  In  spite  of  his 
dislike  to  the  King  of  France,  and  all  things  French,  he  wore 
the  long  curled  wig  which  Louis  XT  V.  had  brought  into  vogue. 

His  whole  attention  was  absorbed  by  Klircher,  who,  with  a 
wig  similar  in  fashion,  but  more  modest  in  dimensions,  sat 
playing  and  singing  the  "  Schmerz-Lied. "  He  sang  with 
great  feeling,  and  he,  as  well  as  the  composer,  felt  the  power 
and  beauty  of  the  music. 

It  died  away  in  gentle  sighs,  and  there  was  a  pause.  Then 
the  emperor  in  a  low  voice  said,  "  Thank  you,  Kircher  ;  you 
have  given  me  great  pleasure." 

"  Your  majesty,  it  is  I  who  should  thank  you.  Your  com- 
position is  a  masterpiece  ;  and,  instead  of  criticising  my  mis- 
erable performance,  you  praise  it." 

"  Do  you  really  like  it,  then  ? " 

"  Like  it !  It  evinces  genius,  which  is  something  more  than 
a  conformity  to  musical  rules.  It  is  a  gift  from  Heaven, 
whence  surely  all  musical  inspiration  descends.  The  man 
that  could  listen  to  your  '  Schmerz-Lied '  without  emotion  has 
no  soul  ;  and,  to  him  that  could  hear  it  with  eyes  undimmed, 
God  has  denied  the  gift  of  tears." 

''Kircher."  said  the  emperor,  with  a  delighted  smile,  "I 
thank  you  a  thousand  times  for  your  approbation.  It  embold- 
ens me  to  confess  that  I  felt  tears  in  my  eyes  while  you  sang. 
To  you,  a  musician,  I  may  say  as  much  ;  for  you  know  that, 
to  write  a  song  of  sorrow,  a  man  must  have  known  sorrow 
himself.  I  fear  that  my  '  Schmerz-Lied '  will  have  to  give 
place  to  embateria,  and  our  spinet  to  the  discordant  drum." 

"And  will  it  come  to  open  war  with  the  Porte?"  asked 
Kircher,  sadly. 

"  I  fear  as  much,"  sighed  the  emperor.     "  Is  it  not  singular 


THE  EMPEROR  LEOPOLD  L  195 

that  I,  a  man  of  peace,  and  lover  of  art,  should  he  forever 
compelled  to  he  at  war  with  the  world  ?  And  is  it  not  hard 
that  a  potentate  should  be  continually  forced  into  measures 
which  he  ahhors,  and  stand  before  his  fellow-creatures  in  a 
character  that  is  not  his  own  ?  History  will  depict  me  as  a 
heartless  and  bloodthirsty  monarch,  while  no  man  has  ever 
more  deprecated  the  shedding  of  blood  than  I.  My  only  com- 
fort is,  that,  if  my  poor  subjects  suffer,  it  is  '  ad  majorem  Dei 
gloriam.'" 

And  Leopold,  who  was  not  only  a  disciple  hut  a  lay  mem- 
ber of  the  order  of  Jesuits,  bent  his  head,  and  made  the  sign 
of  the  cross. 

"  Your  majesty  alludes  to  the  bloodshed  in  Hungary  ? " 

"Yes,"  said  Leopold,  mournfully  ;  "for  I  love  those  poor 
Hungarians,  though  they  be  heretics  and  rebels,  and  I  long 
for  the  rising  of  the  sun  of  peace  upon  their  unhappy  land. 
O  Kircher,  if  we  could  but  be  at  peace  abroad  and  at  home, 
how  happily  would  our  days  glide  by  !  My  court  should  be 
the  paradise  of  poetry  and  love,  the  home  of  art,  and  the  tem- 
ple of  all  wisdom  and  science." 

"  Your  majesty  is  already  the  patron  of  all  the  arts  ;  and 
artists  are  proud  to  hail  you  as  their  brother.  Are  you  not 
both  a  composer  of  music  and  a  performer  ?  Do  you  not  rival 
Hermann,  Schildbach,  and  Hamilton,  in  painting  ?  And  did 
you  not  astonish  Fisher  von  Erlach  with  the  suggestions  you 
offered  him  in  the  planning  of  the  palace  of  Schonbrunn? 
And  in  all  your  majesty's  dominions,  is  there  a  bolder  horse- 
man, a  more  valiant  sportsman,  a  more  graceful  dancer  than 
yourself  ?  " 

"To  hear  you,  Kircher,"  said  Leopold,  laughing,  "one 
would  suppose  that  you  were  describing  the  attributes  of  Phoe- 
bus-Apollo." 

"  And  so  I  am,**  laughed  Kircher  ;  "  for  out  of  the  letters  of 
your  majesty's  name,  Leopoldus  A,  did  not  Sigismund  von 
Birken  compose  the  anagram,  *  Deus  Apollo  ? ' " 

"  It  is  very  easy  to  make  anagrams  by  misplacing  a  few  let- 
ters, my  dear  Kircher  ;  but  to  convert  a  poor  terrene  Qerman 
emperor  into  a  Magnus- Apollo,  would  require  the  upheaval  of 
mountains  by  Titan  hands,  from  now  until  the  millennium. 


196  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

I  would  be  content  to  be  myself,  were  I  regarded  as  a  benefi- 
cent and  peace-loving  monarch.  Consilio  et  Industria  is  the 
motto  of  my  choice — a  motto,  which,  though  inappropriate  to 
a  god,  is  pertinent  as  the  device  of  a  Leopold.  I  would  wish 
to  govern  wdth  judgment,  and  labor  industriously  for  the 
welfare  of  my  people,  accepting  with  Christian  resignation 
whatever  it  pleases  my  Maker  to  apportion.  All  I  ask  of  Provi- 
dence is  some  little  leisure  for  the  cultivation  of  my  favor- 
ite art.  From  music  I  derive  such  indescribable  enjoyment, 
that,  if  I  could,  I  would  die  within  hearing  of  its  delicious 
melody.  And,  since  I  have  said  so  much,  Kircher,  I  will  go 
on  to  request  of  you,  that  when  my  end  draws  near,  you  will 
attend  to  the  fulfilment  of  my  wish." 

"  A  melancholy  duty  you  assign  to  me,  gracious  sovereign," 
sighed  Kircher.  "But  if  I  outlive  you,  it  shall  be  lovingly 
performed.  Let  us  hope,  however,  for  Austria's  sake,  that  you 
will  survive  me  by  many  years." 

"  Life  and  death  are  in  the  hands  of  God,"  returned  Leo- 
pold, reverently.  "  And  now  let  us  speak  of  matters  less  se- 
rious. Here  is  the  score  of  a  new  opera,  lately  sent  to  me 
from  Rome.  It  is  called  '  La  Principessa  Fidele,'  and  is  com- 
posed by  Scarlatti,  who,  as  you  know,  is  winning  a  great  rep- 
utation." 

"Yes,"  growled  Kircher,  "he  is  winning  reputation  by 
tickling  the  ears  with  soft  strains  which  convey  no  meaning 
to  the  heart." 

"  Well,  well,  maestro,  let  us  hear,  before  we  decide,"  replied 
Leopold,  laughing. 

Kircher  placed  the  score  upon  the  desk  of  the  spinet,  and 
began  to  play.  The  emperor  threw  himself  back  again  into 
his  arm-chair,  and,  closing  his  eyes,  listened  with  an  expression 
of  great  satisfaction. 

But  his  pleasure  was  of  short  duration.  Scarcely  had 
Kircher  finished  the  first  grand  aria,  before  the  door  opened^ 
and  the  chamberlain  of  the  day  presented  himself.  Leopold 
frowned,  and,  raising  his  head,  asked  somewhat  impatiently, 
"Well,— what  is  it?" 

"  The  members  of  your  imperial  majesty's  council  of  war 
are  in  the  anteroom,  and  solicit  an  audience." 


THE  COUNCIL  OF  WAR  197 

**  Ask  Ihem  to  assemble  in  the  small  council-chamber,  and 
I  will  join  them  in  a  moment."  Then,  turning  to  Kircher,  the 
emperor  shook  his  head.  "  Something  unusual  must  have  hap- 
pened for  the  council  to  assemble  at  such  an  early  hour.  You 
see,  Kircher,  that  in  these  troublous  times  an  emperor  can 
have  no  leisure  hours  ;  and,  however  I  may  yearn  to  remain, 
I  must  leave  you." 

"  Shall  I  return  to-morrow  morning  ? "  asked  Kircher. 

"  Happy  is  the  man  who  can  dispose  of  the  morrow,"  sighed 
Leopold.  "  It  is  more  than  an  Emperor  of  Grermany  dare  do. 
I  must  first  ascertain  what  news  my  council  bring  me  ;  but, 
under  any  circumstances,  come,  Kircher  ;  for  if  I  am  not  here, 
some  distant  strain  of  your  music  may  reach  my  ear  to  lighten 
my  cares  of  state." 

Eesuming  his  hat,  the  emperor  left  the  cabinet,  and  joined 
his  ministers  in  the  council-chamber. 


CHAPTER  VH. 

THE  COUNCIL  OF  WAR. 

The  president,  vice-president,  and  three  members  of  the 
council,  awaited  the  entrance  of  the  emperor.  The  president, 
the  Margrave  of  Baden,  stood  in  the  embrasure  of  a  window, 
engaged  in  a  whispered  conversation  with  the  vice-president, 
General  Count  von  Starhemberg,  whose  eyes  were  continually 
wandering  to  the  spot  where  the  Duke  of  Lorraine  was  pro- 
foundly engaged  in  the  contemplation  of  a  full-length  por- 
trait of  Charles  V.  Beyond,  in  the  recess  of  another  window, 
stood  the  Counts  von  Kinsky  and  Portia,  conversing  in  low 
but  earnest  tones ;  both  from  time  to  time  glancing  at  the 
Duke  of  Lorraine  with  an  expression  of  aversion  which  neither 
attempted  to  disguise  from  the  other. 

"Do  you  think  his  majesty  will  bestow  the  chief  com- 
mand upon  his  brother-in-law?"  asked  General  Count 
Portia. 

"Yes,"  replied  Count  E^nsky,  with  a  shrug.    "The  emper- 


198  PRINCE   EUGfiNE   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

or  is  so  inordinately  fond  of  the  Duke  of  Lorraine  that  he 
fancies  him  endowed  with  military  genius." 

"General,"  whispered  the  Margrave  of  Baden  to  Count 
Starhemberg,  "  I  wish  to  say  something  to  you  in  private.  Can 
I  rely  upon  your  discretion  ? " 

"  Your  highness  does  me  honor,"  was  the  reply,  "  and  I 
promise  absolute  silence  as  regards  any  thing  you  may  be 
pleased  to  communicate." 

"  Then  I  will  go  to  the  point  at  once.  The  Duke  of  Lorraine 
must  not  have  the  command  of  the  Austrian  army.  Do  you 
sustain  me  ? " 

"  Ah  !    Your  highness,  too,  hates  him." 

The  margrave  smiled.  "  My  dear  general,  that  little  word 
*  too '  proves  that  we  are  of  one  mind.  Yes,  I  hate  the  Duke 
of  Lorraine,  not  per  se,  nor  for  any  evil  quality  that  I  know 
of.  I  hate  him  as  one  dangerous  to  the  welfare  of  the  state, 
and  too  infiuential  with  its  ruler,  the  emperor.  Though  he 
has  the  reputation  of  being  a  great  general,  he  longs  for  peace 
and  retirement  among  his  books  and  maps  at  home  ;  and  he 
would  rather  submit  to  be  humbled  by  foreign  powers  than 
declare  war  against  their  aggressions,  however  insolent.  In 
other  words,  he  hates  bloodshed,  and,  if  he  is  a  soldier,  he  is 
one  that  loves  the  pen  far  more  than  he  does  the  sword." 

"  Your  highness  is  right,"  returned  Count  Starhemberg ; 
"  the  duke  is  no  soldier,  and  his  appointment  to  the  chief  com- 
mand of  her  armies  would  be  a  misfortune  for  Austria.  And, 
worse  yet,  he  is  so  opiniated  that  he  never  will  listen  to  ad- 
vice." 

"  Therefore  we  must  work  together  to  avert  his  appoint- 
ment. We  need  a  young  commander,  brave,  ambitious,  and 
eager  for  renown. " 

"  Like  Prince  Louis  of  Baden  ? "  asked  Von  Starhemberg, 
smiling. 

"  Yes,  like  Prince  Louis  of  Baden,  said  the  margrave,  em- 
phatically. "  He  is  quite  as  brave  and  skilful  as  the  duke  ; 
but  he  is  modest,  is  willing  to  listen  to  advice,  and  to  be  guided 
by  the  experience  of  good  counsellors.  Instead  of  ruling  the 
war  department,  he  will  be  ruled  by  it,  and  thus  we  will  have 
unanimity  both  in  field  and  council.     It  is  to  your  interest, 


THE  COUNCIL  OF  WAR.  199 

therefore,  to  defeat  the  Duke  of  Lorraine,  and  secure  the  ap- 
pointment of  my  nephew." 

•'  Your  highness  can  count  on  me  ;  but  I  am  not  very  san- 
guine of  success." 

"  It  may  be  easier  of  accomplishment  than  you  think  ;  at 
all  events  let  us  make  the  attempt.  We  must  represent  war  as 
inevitable  ;  and,  having  given  an  account  of  tiie  formidable 
preparations  making  by  the  enemy,  we  must  counterbalance  it 
all  by  a  glowing  exposition  of  our  own  strength  and  resouixjes. 
This  will  arouse  the  duke's  spirit  of  opposition,  and  he  will 
forthwith  discourse  on  the  horrors  of  war.  I  will  take  advan- 
tage of  his  disinclination  to  fight,  to  suggest  that,  with  such 
sentiments,  he  had  better  not  aspire  to  command  our  armies. 
In  your  quality  of  vice-president  you  come  forward  to  sustain 
my —    Chut  1    Here  comes  the  emperor." 

All  the  members  of  the  council  bowed  low,  except  the  Duke 
of  Lorraine,  who,  having  his  back  to  the  door,  had  not  per- 
ceived the  entrance  of  the  emperor.  Leopold  crossed  the  room, 
and  the  thickness  of  the  carpet  so  muffled  his  footfall  that  he 
had  his  hand  on  his  brother-in-law's  shoulder  before  the  latter 
had  become  aware  of  his  presence. 

"  What  are  you  thinking  of  ? "  asked  he,  with  an  affable 
smile.  **  You  appear  to  be  absorbed  in  admiration  of  our  great 
ancestor." 

**  Yes,  your  majesty,"  replied  the  duke.  "  I  was  admiring 
the  beauty  of  his  noble  countenance,  and  thinking  of  the  pride 
you  must  feel  when  you  remember  that  you  are  his  descend- 
ant, and  that  his  blood  flows  in  your  veins." 

Leopold  bent  his  head  in  token  of  assent.  "  You  are  right ; 
I  am  proud  of  my  descent.  Such  an  ancestry  as  mine  should 
inspire  a  man  to  noble  deeds ;  and  if  I.  encourage  pride  of 
birth  in  my  subjects,  it  is  because  I  believe  it  to  be  an  incentive 
to  virtue  and  honor.  Remembering,  then,  with  mingled  gratu- 
lation  and  humility,  that  we  are  the  posterity  of  Charles  V., 
let  us  determine  to-day  to  act  in  a  manner  worthy  of  our  great 
progenitor  ;  for,  by  your  haste  to  assemble  here  this  morning, 
I  judge  that  we  have  weighty  matters  to  discuss.  Be  seated, 
and  let  us  proceed  to  business." 

So  saying,  the  emperor  glided  into  his  arm-chair,  which 
14 


200  PRINCE  EUGENE   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

stood  behind  a  semicircular  table,  immediately  under  the  por- 
trait of  Charles  V.,  and  his  five  counsellors  occupied  the  tab- 
ourets around. 

"  And  now,  my  lords,"  exclaimed  Leopold,  "  let  me  hear 
what  it  is  that  brings  you  hither  at  an  hour  so  unusual." 

"  Dispatches  from  General  Count  Caprara,  your  majesty," 
replied  the  Margrave  Herman  of  Baden. 

"  And  from  France  and  Poland,  likewise,"  added  the  Duke 
of  Lorraine. 

''  Let  us  hear  from  General  Caprara.  "We  sent  him  to  Tur- 
key to  make  a  last  effort  at  pacification.  Our  propositions, 
through  him,  were  such  as  must  have  proved  to  the  Porte  our 
earnest  longing  for  peace.  Why  did  the  general  not  present 
his  dispatches  in  person  ? " 

"  Your  majesty,  it  is  out  of  his  power  to  do  so,"  was  the 
reply.  "Your  majesty's  proposals  were  haughtily  rejected, 
and,  in  their  stead,  conditions  were  made  which  the  general 
could  not  accept.  The  grand-vizier  was  so  incensed,  that  he 
arrested  your  envoy,  and  forced  him  to  accompany  the  Turkish 
embassy  back  to  Constantinople.  He  then  marched  his  army 
to  our  frontiers,  carrying  along  your  majesty's  legation  as 
prisoners  of  war.  At  Belgrade  one  of  the  secretaries  managed 
to  make  his  escape,  and  to  conceal  on  his  person  the  letters  and 
documents  of  the  general,  which  he  has  ridden  day  and  night 
to  deliver  into  your  majesty's  hands." 

"  What  is  the  purport  of  these  documents  ? "  said  Leopold, 
who  had  listened  with  perfect  calmness  to  this  extraordinary 
recital. 

"  First,  your  majesty,  they  contain  an  account  of  the  gen- 
eral's peace  negotiations.  They  were  all  rejected,  and  the 
grand-vizier  has  refused  to  renew  the  truce  which  has  just 
expired.     He  requires  new  conditions." 

"  Name  them,"  said  Leopold. 

The  margrave  drew  from  his  portfolio  a  document,  and  be- 
gan to  read. 

"  Austria  shall  pay  yearly  tribute  to  the  Porte.  She  shall 
raze  every  fortress  she  has  erected  on  the  Turkish  frontier. 
She  shall  recognize  Count  Tokoly  as  King  of  Hungary.  She 
shall  deliver  to  him  the  island  of  Schutt,  the  fortress  of  Co- 


THE  COUNCIL  OF  WAR.  201 

mom,  and  all  other  strongholds  in  Hungary,  and  place  him 
on  an  equal  footing  with  the  Prince  of  Transylvania." 

'*  Which  means  neither  more  nor  less  than  a  declaration  of 
war,"  cried  the  emperor  ;  '*  and  General  Caprai»a  would  have 
been  a  traitor  had  he  listened  to  such  insulting  proposals.  My 
patience  with  this  arrogant  Moslem  is  exhausted,  and  further 
forbearance  would  be  a  disgrace.  We  have  no  alternative : 
we  must  go  to  war,  trusting  in  God  to  defend  the  right.  Our 
cause  is  a  holy  one  ;  and  perhaps,  with  the  blessing  of  Heaven, 
it  may  be  granted  us  to  drive  the  infidel  from  Europe  forever. 
Go  on,  margrave.     What  other  news  have  you  ? " 

"  Important  information,  your  majesty,  as  to  the  strength 
of  the  enemy's  forces.  The  Sultan,  at  Belgrade,  reviewed  an 
army  of  two  hundred  thousand  men,  all  fully  equipped,  and 
anxious  to  retrieve  their  losses  at  St.  Gotthard.  They  have 
carried  their  fanaticism  to  such  an  extent  that  they  talk  of 
planting  the  Crescent  where  the  Cross  now  looms  from  the 
towers  of  St.  Stephen's  in  Vienna.  Kara  Mustapha  himself 
told  General  Caprara  that,  in  a  few  weeks  from  now,  a  Sultan 
of  the  West  would  seat  himself  on  the  throne  of  the  Emperors 
of  Germany." 

"God  will  punish  his  blasphemous  boasting,"  returned 
Leopold.  "  God  will  not  suffer  the  Christian  to  perish  before 
the  might  of  the  Paynim.  The  die  is  cast  for  war,  for  war  I 
At  least,  such  is  my  conviction  :  but  if  any  one  here  be  of  op- 
posite mind,  let  him  speak  boldly.  Freedom  of  speech  in  this 
chamber  is  not  only  his  right,  but  his  solemn  duty." 

"  War  !  war  I "  echoed  the  councillors,  four  of  them  vocifer- 
ously, the  Duke  of  Lorraine  deliberately,  and  so  slowly,  that 
his  voice  came  as  an  echo  of  the  words  that  were  spoken  by 
his  colleagues. 

The  emperor  was  a  little  surprised.  "Your  highness  is 
then  of  our  opinion  ? "  asked  he. 

'*  I  am,  your  majesty.  War  is  inevitable,  and  we  must 
risk  our  meagre  forces  against  the  two  hundred  thousand  men 
of  the  Sultan." 

"  True,  we  are  not  so  numerous  as  the  enemy,"  observed  the 
Margrave  of  Badea,  "  but  our  men  are  as  well  equipped  and  as 
enthusiastic  as  those  of  the  Porte,  and,  under  the  leadership 


202  PRIFCE   EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

of  such  a  hero  as  the  Duke  of  Lorraine,  we  are  certain  of 
victory. " 

The  duke  shook  his  head.  "  The  greatest  general  that  ever 
led  an  army  into  battle  cannot  hope  for  victory,  when,  to 
forces  immensely  superior  to  his  own,  he  opposes  troops 
neither  well  armed  nor  well  provided." 

"  Happily,"  replied  the  margrave,  "  this  is  not  the  case  with 
our  men.  Without  counting  the  auxiliaries  that  will  be  fur- 
nished by  the  princes  of  the  empire,  we  shall  oppose  a  hun- 
dred thousand  men  to  the  Turks.  Moreover,  we  have  been 
preparing  for  war,  and  for  several  months  have  taken  meas- 
ures to  arm  our  troops  and  provision  them  for  a  campaign." 

"  Permit  me  to  dispute  your  last  assertion,"  replied  the 
duke,  whose  mild  countenance  kindled,  and  whose  soft  eyes 
began  to  glow.  "It  is  my  duty  to  speak  the  truth  to  his 
majesty,  and  I  shall  do  it  fearlessly.  No,  my  liege,  we  have 
not  a  hundred  thousand  men,  and  our  soldiers  are  ill  equipped 
and  ill  provided.  As  regards  the  auxiliaries  of  the  princes  of 
the  German  empire,  your  majesty  know^s  that  their  deputies 
have  been  in  Frankfort  for  months  without  having  yet  held 
one  single  council  to  deliberate  on  the  expediency  of  sending 
or  not  sending  re-enforcements  to  our  army.  I  grieve  to  say 
so,  but  the  truth  must  be  spoken.  We  have  an  insignificant 
army,  which,  of  itself,  is  inadequate  to  repel  the  Turkish 
hordes  ;  and,  should  they  march  to  Vienna,  our  capital  must 
fall,  for  I  regret  to  say  that  no  measures  have  been  taken  for 
its  defence.  There  are  but  ten  guns  on  the  bastions  ;  the 
trenches  are  so  dry  that  they  can  be  crossed  by  foot-passengers, 
and  the  garrison  consists  of  our  ordinary  city  guard,  and  one 
thousand  troops  of  the  line.  For  Vienna  to  w^ithstand  a  siege 
in  this  defenceless  condition  is  impossible ;  ar  i,  should  the 
Turks  be  allowed  to  march  hither,  your  majesty  would  have 
to  surrender." 

*'Your  majesty,"  interrupted  Count  Starhemberg,  vehe- 
mently, "  leave  to  me  the  defence  of  Vienna,  and  I  swear  that, 
sooner  than  deliver  your  capital  to  the  Turks,  I  will  perish 
under  its  ruins." 

"  And  I,"  added  the  margrave.  "  solemnly  adjure  your  ma- 
jesty not  to  confide  the  chief  command  of  your  forces  to  the 


THE  COUNCIL  OF  WAR.  203 

Duke  of  Lorraine,  for  it  is  evident  that  he  does  not  desire  so 
perilous  an  appointment.  His  highness  has  no  confidence  in 
our  ability  to  prosecute  the  war  successfully  ;  and  no  general 
can  lead  his  soldiers  to  victory  who  beforehand  is  convinced 
that  they  are  destined  to  suffer  defeat." 

"  No  genei*al  can  lead  his  soldiers  to  victory  who  refuses  to 
contemplate  the  possibilities  of  defeat,"  exclaimed  the  Duke  of 
Lorraine,  whose  handsome  face  began  to  show  traces  of  anger. 
"  To  estimate  his  strength  at  its  real  value,  he  must  at  least 
learn  something  of  the  size  and  condition  of  his  army.  It  is 
the  duty  of  a  commander-in-chief  to  see  with  his  own  eyes, 
and  decide  from  his  own  observation  ;  for  him,  the  men  and 
stores  that  are  exhibited  to  view  on  tlie  green  cloth  of  a  table 
within  the  walls  of  a  council-chamber  have  no  significance 
whatever." 

"  Does  your  highness  accuse  me  of  an  intention  to  deceive 
his  majesty  ? "  cried  the  margrave,  haughtily.     "  Do  you — " 

"  Peace,  gentlemen,  peace ! "  interrupted  the  emperor. 
"  We  ai*e  here  to  war  with  the  stranger,  not  with  our  own  flesh 
and  blood.  Every  man  present  shall  speak  his  mind  without 
censure  from  his  colleagues  ;  and  he  who  prevaricates  is  no  true 
subject  of  mine.  You  are  all  free  to  discuss  our  difficulties  ;  it 
remains  for  me  to  decide  in  what  manner  they  shall  be  met 
I  beg  to  recall  this  fact  to  Count  Starhemberg,  who  unsolicited 
has  offered  to  take  upon  himself  the  defence  of  Vienna.  My 
heartfelt  thanks  are  due  to  the  Duke  of  Lorraine  for  his  frank 
exposition  of  our  disabilities  ;  he  is  now,  as  ever,  the  cham- 
pion of  truth  and  right.  Has  the  Margrave  of  Baden  any 
further  dispatches  to  lay  before  us  ? " 

"No,  your  maj^y,"  answered  the  margrave,  pale  with 
anger. 

**  Then  let  us  have  those  of  his  highness  of  Lorraine,"  re- 
turned Leopold,  with  an  affectionate  glance  at  his  brother-in- 
law. 

"  I  have  couriers,  your  majesty,  from  Count  von  Mansfeld 
and  from  Count  von  Waldstein." 

*'  Let  us  hear  the  news  from  Paris  first,"  replied  Leopold, 
slightly  frowning.  '*  Let  us  hear  from  our  hereditary  foe, 
who,  under  pretence  of  coming  to  our  rescue,  pillages  our 


204  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

property  while  the  house  is  on  fire.  We  know  full  well  that 
this  fair-spoken  Louis  is  in  secret  league  with  our  foes  at  home 
and  abroad,  and  we  confess  that  when  he  invited  us  to  be 
sponsor  to  his  grandson,  we  accepted  the  honor  with  an  ill 
grace.     By-the-by,  has  the  young  dauphin  been  baptized  ? " 

"  Yes,  your  majesty,  and  Count  von  Mansfeld  was  your  im- 
perial majesty's  proxy.  After  the  ceremony  the  king  held  a 
long  and  gracious  conversation  with  your  majesty's  represent- 
ative, in  which  he  expressed  his  great  sympathy  with  your 
majesty,  and  requested  Count  Mansfeld  to  say  that  he  remem- 
bered you  night  and  morning  in  his  prayers." 

"The  King  of  France  will  deceive  neither  the  Lord  of 
heaven  nor  His  servant  the  ruler  of  Austria,  with  his  prayers," 
exclaimed  Leopold,  with  some  show  of  warmth.  "  He  merely 
means  to  say  that  he  intends  to  give  us  nothing  more  substan- 
tial. Would  he  but  content  himself  with  cold  neutrality,  we 
would  be  willing  to  accept  his  prayers  instead  of  his  works. 
But  while  he  prays  for  us,  he  gives  aid  and  comfort  to  our 
enemies,  who  are  less  our  enemies  than  such  a  sanctimonious 
friend.  But,  enough  of  the  King  of  France  !  To  such  an  of- 
fensive message  I  have  no  answer  to  return." 

"Count  von  Mansfeld  left  Paris  at  once,  your  majesty,  and 
proceeded  to  Spain  to  urge  the  claims  of  his  imperial  highness, 
the  Archduke  Charles,  to  the  Spanish  succession." 

"  Now  let  us  hear  from  Count  von  Waldstein  and  Warsaw." 

"  Count  von  Waldstein  was  received  with  distinguished  con- 
sideration. The  King  of  Poland,  at  least,  is  your  imperial 
majesty's  friend.  You  remember  that  his  wife  is  a  French 
woman  ? " 

"  Yes,"  replied  Leopold,  shaking  his  head,  "  and  a  woman 
whose  birth  is  not  illustrious  enough  for  her  station." 

"She  is,  nevertheless,  Queen  of  Poland,  my  liege,  and  is 
recognized  as  such  by  the  Poles.  When  the  grandson  of 
the  King  of  France  was  born,  he  purposely  sent  notification 
of  the  event  to  the  King  of  Poland,  ignoring  in  his  dispatches 
the  queen.  This  omission  of  a  courtesy,  customary  among 
royal  heads,  offended  the  queen  ;  and  to  her  resentment  we 
are  to  attribute  the  gracious  reception  given  to  our  ambassa- 
dop.     My  liege,  our  alliance  with  Poland  is  a  fixed  fact.    A 


THE  COUNCIL  OF  WAR.  205 

treaty  has  been  concluded,  by  which  John  Sobiesky  pledges 
himself  to  sustain  Austria  against  Turkey,  furnishing  at  once 
forty  thousand  men  who  are  ready  for  action  as  soon  as 
needed." 

"  To  what  are  we  pledged  in  return  for  this  ? "  asked  Leopold. 

"  Merely  to  furnish  on  our  part  sixty  thousand  men,  and  to 
consult  with  his  majesty  as  to  our  operations." 

"  To  consult  with  him  I "  repeated  the  emperor.  '*  This 
looks  as  though  he  expected  to  take  part  in  oyr  plans  for  the 
prosecution  of  this  war,  instead  of  recognizing  us  as  com- 
mander-in-chief." 

"  To  exact  such  recognition  from  him  would  be  unseemly," 
replied  the  duke.  "  The  King  of  Poland  is  a  great  captain  as 
well  as  a  crowned  head  ;  and  it  would  ill  become  us  to  dictate 
to  a  warrior,  from  whom  we  should  all  regard  it  as  a  privilege 
to  receive  advice.  Moreover,  as  a  crowned  head,  John  Sobi- 
esky is  entitled  to  the  first  rank  in  the  field  as  well  as  in  the 
cabinet." 

"  He  is  nothing  more  than  an  elected  ruler,"  observed  Leo- 
pold, with  a  shrug.  "  For  want  of  a  better  alliance,  I  must 
content  myself  with  that  of  John  Sobiesky  ;  but  I  put  the 
question  to  you — suppose  he  were  to  come  to  Vienna,  how 
should  I  receive  or  entertain  an  elected  king  ? " 

"  With  open  arms,  if  he  come  to  deliver  us  from  our  foes,"* 
was  the  prompt  reply.  "  Welcome  are  all  who  visit  us  as  true 
friends,  but  doubly  welcome  those  who  come  in  time  of  need. 
The  King  of  Poland  has  been  the  first  prince  to  respond  to  our 
oflFers  of  alliance,  the  first  to  co-operate  with  us  in  our  struggle 
with  the  infidel." 

*'  But  he  will  not  be  the  last,"  interposed  the  Margrave  of 
Baden.  "  I,  too,  have  good  news  for  you,  my  liege.  The  Elect- 
or of  Bavaria,  to  whom  I  wrote  for  aid  in  your  majesty's  ap- 
proaching troubles,  has  promised  not  only  a  considerable  body 
of  troops,  but  offers  to  command  them  in  person.  The  IHector 
of  Saxony,  too,  I  think,  will  co-operate  with  us.  The  council  of 
the  states  of  the  German  empire  also  are  in  session  at  Frank- 
fort,  to  consult  as  to  the  expediency  of  joining  your  majesty's 
standard." 

•  The  duke's  own  words.— See  Annath, "  Prince  Eugene  of  Savoy,"  voL  L 


206  PRINCE   EUGENE   AND   HIS  TIMES. 

"  And  before  the  electors  equip  their  men,  and  the  council 
make  up  their  mind,  the  Turks  will  have  marched  to  Vienna, 
unless  we  make  a  junction  with  the  King  of  Poland  and  inter- 
cept them  on  their  way.  Each  day  of  delay  increases  the  peril, 
for  they  are  already  on  this  side  of  Belgrade.  Unless  we  can 
oppose  them  now,  we  are  lost,  and  all  Bavaria,  Saxony,  and 
the  states  of  the  empire,  cannot  avert  our  doom." 

"Then,  in  God's  name,  let  us  act  at  once,"  cried  the  emper- 
or, rising  from  his  seat.  "  President  of  the  war  department, 
let  your  troops  be  in  readiness  to  march,  and  see  that  our  men 
are  equipped  and  provisioned." 

"  Your  majesty's  commands  shall  be  obeyed." 

"  Duke  of  Lorraine,"  continued  Leopold,  "  I  appoint  you  to 
the  chief  command  of  my  forces.  Go  forth,  and,  with  the 
blessing  of  God,  do  battle  for  Christendom  and  Germany." 

"I  accept,  your  majesty,"  returned  the  duke,  solemnly 
bending  his  head.  "  Victory  is  in  the  hands  of  Almighty 
God  ;  but  bravery,  loyalty,  and  struggle  unto  death,  I  promise, 
on  behalf  of  your  majesty's  army. " 

"  Count  Eudiger  von  Starhemberg,"  resumed  the  emperor^ 
*'  your  petition  is  granted.  To  you  I  commit  the  defence  of 
my  capital." 

"  Thanks,  your  majesty,"  exclaimed  Von  Starhemberg  fer- 
vently. "  I  will  defend  it  with  the  last  drop  of  my  blood ; 
and  if  Vienna  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  infidel,  he  shall  find 
nothing  left  of  her  stateliness,  save  a  heap  of  ruins  and  the 
lifeless  bodies  of  her  defenders." 

"  To  you,  Counts  Portia  and  Kinsky,  I  commit  the  direction 
of  the  war  department,  in  conjunction  with  your  colleague, 
the  Margrave  of  Baden.  Let  couriers  be  dispatched  to  all  the 
European  courts  with  information  of  our  declaration  of  war 
against  the  Porte.  Let  it  be  announced  to  the  world  that,  for 
the  good  of  Christendom,  Leopold  has  grasped  the  sword  ; 
and,  in  this  new  crusade,  may  he  confound  the  unbelieving 
Turk,  and  glorify  the  standard  of  the  Christian,  in  the  name 
of  the  Father,  of  the  Son,  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  And  may 
the  Blessed  Virgin,  the  Mother  of  Christ,  vouchsafe  her  pro- 
tection and  her  prayers  !  " 


THE  PLAIXS  OF  KITSEE.  207 

CHAPTER  Vin. 
THE  PLAINS  OF  KITSEE. 

On  the  first  of  May,  1683,  the  Emperor  Leopold  reviewed 
his  troops  on  the  plains  of  Kitsee,  not  far  from  Presbm^.  To 
this  review,  all  who  had  promised  to  sustain  Austria  were  in- 
vited. Her  apiKjals  had  at  last  roused  the  German  princes  to 
action  ;  but  they  had  been  so  dilatory  in  their  councils,  that 
not  one  of  them  was  prepared  for  war. 

The  army  assembled  on  the  plains  of  Kitsee  was  not  nu- 
merous. There  were  thirty -three  thousand  men  in  all,  who, 
with  their  faded  uniforms  and  defective  weapons,  made  no 
great  show. 

The  emperor,  as  he  emerged  from  his  tent,  looked  dis- 
couraged. Sternly  he  rode  forth  on  his  richly-cajmrisoned 
gray  horse,  and,  when  his  men  greeted  him  with  en- 
thusiastic shouts,  he  bowed  his  head  in  silence,  and  sighed 
heavily. 

He  turned  to  Charles  of  Lorraine,  who  rode  a  few  paces  be- 
hind him,  and  said : 

"Come  hither,  Carl."  The  duke  obeyed  at  once,  and  at 
one  bound  was  at  the  emperor's  side.  '*  Tell  me,  Carl,"  said 
he,  anxiously,  '*  how  many  infantry  are  there  here  ? " 

"  Twenty-two  thousand,  your  majesty." 

"  And  cavalry  ? " 

*' Twelve  thousand  mounted  troops." 

**  About  what  may  be  the  strength  of  the  enemy  ? " 

"  Your  majesty,  our  scouts  report  that  the  combioed  forces 
of  Turkey  and  Hungary  amount  to  more  than  two  hundred 
thousand." 

Leopold  raised  his  eyes  to  the  calm,  self-possessed  face  of 
his  brother-in-law.  "  You  say  that,  as  quietly  as  if  it  were  a 
pleasant  piece  of  news  ;  and  yet  methinks  we  are  in  a  critical 
position." 

"  Your  majesty,  I  have  known  this  for  so  long  a  time  that 
I  am  accustomed  to  contemplate  it  with  equanimity.  Before 
our  decision  was  made,  I  was  timid  and  irresolute  ;  but  since 


208  PRINCE  EUGEXE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

the  die  is  cast,  I  am  bold  and  self-reliant,  for  I  know  that  I 
will  either  conquer  or  die." 

''  You  think  success  then  a  possibility !  With  thirty-three 
thousand  men,  you  hope  to  repulse  two  hundred  thousand  ?  " 

"The  King  of  Poland  adds  forty  thousand  to  our  number, 
the  Electors  of  Bavaria  and  Saxony  are  making  preparations 
to  re-enforce  us,  and  the  other  princes  of  Germany  will  soon 
follow  their  example.  The  Moslem  has  put  out  all  his  strength 
for  one  decisive  blow  ;  the  longer  we  avoid  an  engagement  the 
weaker  he  grows  ;  while  time  to  us  brings  accession  of  num- 
bers, and  lessens  his  chance  for  reaching  Vienna. '' 

The  emperor  shook  his  head.  ''  That  you  are  a  hero,  Carl, 
I  confess  :  this  hour  proves  you  one.  But  I  cannot  share  your 
hopefulness.  When  I  look  around  me  at  all  these  men,  and 
think  that  they  are  death-doomed,  my  heart  grows  faint,  and 
my  eyes  dim." 

"  Do  not  think  so  much  of  the  number  of  your  troops,  sire ; 
look  at  their  countenances.  See  those  stern,  resolute  faces,, 
and  those  fiery  eyes.  Every  man  of  them  chafes  to  march 
against  the  infidel — " 

"  Hurrah  for  our  emperor  ! "  cried  out  a  lusty  voice,  close 
by.     *'  Hurrah  for  our  general,  Charles  of  Lorraine  ! " 

"  Ah,  Christopher  111,  are  you  there  ? "  cried  the  duke,  cor- 
dially. 

"  Yes,  your  highness,"  replied  the  cuirassier,  while  his 
horse  stepped  a  few  paces  in  front  of  the  ranks.  "  Yes,  your 
highness,  I  am  here  to  fight  the  infidel  with  a  will  as  good  as 
I  had  at  St.  Gotthard's  twenty  years  ago.  That  was  a  glorious 
day  ;  and  I  thank  God  that  I  am  alive  to  see  your  highness 
win  another  victory  as  great  over  the  insolent  Turk." 

"You  think,  then,  that  we  will  be  victorious,  Christo- 
pher  ? " 

"  Ay,  indeed,  your  highness,  for  God  is  with  us." 

"  Bravely  spoken,"  said  the  emperor,  gazing  with  visible 
satisfaction  at  the  wrinkled  face  and  snow-white  beard  of  the 
old  cuirassier. 

The  Duke  of  Lorraine  signed  to  him  to  advance.  "  Your 
majesty,"  said  he  to  Leopold,  "  allow  me  to  present  one  of  your 
bravest  soldiers,  Christopher  111.     In  all  the  army  there  is  not 


THE  PLAINS  OF  KITSEE.  209 

a  man  as  old  as  his  youngest  son,  and  I  venture  to  say  that  he 
is  the  oldest  man  in  Europe  under  arms." 

"  That  is  a  broad  assertion,"  replied  Leopold.  '*  How  old 
may  you  be,  Christopher  111  ? " 

"  Last  Thursday  I  was  a  hundred  and  nine  years  old,  please 
your  imperial  majesty,"  said  Christopher,  bowing  to  his  sad- 
dle-bow. 

"  A  hundred  and  nine  years  old  1 "  cried  Leopold,  incredu- 
lously. *'  Nay — that  is  impossible.  No  man  of  that  age  could 
sit  a  horse  or  carry  a  sword  as  you  do." 

"  Your  majesty,  it  is  said  in  Holy  Writ,  that,  when  our  fore- 
fathers were  five  hundred  years  old,  they  were  young  and 
lusty  ;  and  I  can  assure  my  emperor,  that  when  once  I  am  on 
my  horse,  with  my  sabre  in  hand,  I  will  fight  with  the  best  lad 
of  twenty  years.  I  mount  rather  stiffly,  because  of  a  wound  I 
received  at  Leipsic  when  we  had  the  ill-luck  to  be  defeated  by 
Gustavus  Adolphus." 

"  Why,  man,  do  you  mean  to  say  that  fifty -two  years  ago 
you  were  in  the  army  ? " 

"  Yes,  sire  ;  and  there  I  received  the  wound  from  which  I 
still  sufiFer  to-day.  The  battle  of  Leipsic  was  far  from  being 
my  first :  it  may  have  been  the  twentieth,  but  I  am  not  quite 
sure.  When  first  I  entered  the  service,  I  used  to  mark  our 
battles  with  a  red  cross  when  we  were  victorious,  and  a  black 
one  when  we  were  unfortunate  ;  but,  after  I  had  been  in  the 
army  for  twenty  years,  I  stopped.  There  were  too  many  fights 
to  record.** 

"  But  you  can  remember  your  first  battle,  can  you  not  ? " 

**  Certainly,  sire.  I  began,  as  I  am  likely  to  end,  by  fight- 
ing the  Porte  ;  and  we  defeated  him  then,  as  we  assuredly  in- 
tend to  do  now." 

**  When  was  it  ? "  asked  Leopold,  with  interest. 

**  Eighty  years  ago,  sire,  when  the  Hungarians  and  Turks 
made  war  upon  the  Emperor  Rudolph  the  Second.  Yes,  even 
then,  the  dogs  were  after  Vienna,  and  those  mutinous  Hunga- 
rians were  giving  trouble  to  your  majesty's  forefathers.  The 
Emperor  lifathias,  who  succeeded  his  brother,  made  a  treaty 
with  them  for  twenty  years,  for  we  had  as  much  on  our  hands, 
as  we  could  manage,  with  the  rebels  of  Bohemia.    They 


210  PRINCE   EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

again  and  again  under  the  three  Ferdinands,  but  we  brought 
them  down  at  last.  I  have  served  under  six  emperors,  and  all 
have  vanquished  their  enemies,  even  as  my  last  gracious 
sovereign  Leopold  shall  do.  Long  live  our  Leopold,  the  con- 
queror of  the  Turks  !  " 

"  Long  live  our  Leopold  ! "  shouted  the  cuirassiers,  delight- 
ed with  the  condescension  of  the  emperor  to  Christopher. 
The  shout  was  taken  up  by  the  other  troops,  until  it  resounded 
like  rolling  thunder  along  the  plains  of  Kitsee. 

The  emperor  greeted  his  army  with  something  like  a  re- 
flection of  their  enthusiasm,  and  then  returned  to  Christopher. 

"  Christopher,"  said  he,  "  you  have  served  under  six  em- 
perors, and  have  done  more  than  your  duty  toward  Austria. 
I  give  you  your  discharge,  for  he  who  has  worked  faithfully 
all  day  has  a  right  to  rest  when  night  sets  in.  I  appoint  you 
castellan  of  my  palace  at  Innspruck  ;  and,  in  addition  to  your 
salary,  bestow  upon  you  a  pension  of  four  hundred  florins." 

"  Thank  your  majesty,  but  indeed  I  cannot  go,"  replied  the 
old  man,  resolutely.  "I  hardly  think  the  Turkish  hounds 
will  ever  get  as  far  as  Innspruck,  so  I  must  e'en  go  forward 
with  the  army  to  fight  them  wherever  they  are  to  be  met.  My 
night  has  not  yet  set  in,  sire." 

"  What ! "  cried  Leopold,  laughing,  "  you  refuse  ? " 

"  Yes,  your  majesty.  I  crave  neither  pension  nor  sinecure. 
I  intend  to  follow  the  army,  and,  if  God  calls  me  hence,  then 
I  shall  be  willing  to  rest ;  but  before  I  go  I  hope  to  mow 
"down  a  few  Turks'  heads  to  take  to  St.  Peter,  for  him  to  use  as 
balls  when  he  plays  ninepins.  But,  if  your  imperial  majesty 
will  grant  it,  you  might  do  me  a  favor." 

"  What  is  it,  my  brave  cuirassier  ?  tell  me." 

"  Your  majesty,  will  you  allow  me  to  present  my  sons, 
grandsons,  great-grandsons,  and  great-great-grandsons  ?  They 
are  all  in  my  regiment." 

"  The  Eleventh  Cuirassiers  of  Herberstein,  your  majesty," 
added  the  Duke  of  Lorraine. 

"  Ah,"  cried  the  emperor,  in  a  voice  intended  to  be  heard  by 
all  the  men,  "  that  is  an  old  and  renowned  regiment.  Were 
you  in  it,  Christopher,  when  it  was  commanded  by  the  great 
Dampierreinl619?" 


THE  PLAINS  OF  KITSEE.  211 

"Yes,  your  majesty,  I  was  the  first  man  enrolled.  I  was 
there  when  the  regiment  rescued  the  Emperor  Ferdinand  from 
a  botly  of  insurgents,  who  had  surrounded  his  imperial  palace, 
and  were  ti-ying  to  compel  him  to  abdicate.  Just  as  they 
were  forcing  the  gates,  the  trumpets  of  Dampierre  sounded  an 
alarm,  and  the  emperor  was  saved.  The  cuirassiers  galloped 
into  the  midst  of  the  insurgents,  and  dispersed  them  like  so 
many  cats." 

''  And  to  reward  Iheir  loyalty  and  opportune  aid,"  cried  the 
emperor,  "  Ferdinand  conferred  upon  the  Eleventh  Cuirassiers 
the  privilege  of  riding  through  Vienna,  trumpet  sounding  and 
colors  flying,  and  of  pitching  their  tents  on  the  Burgplate."* 

"  Hurrah  !  Hurrah  !  The  emperor  knows  our  history," 
shouted  Christopher  111. 

"  Hurrah  !  Hurrah  ! "  echoed  the  regiment,  and  once  more 
through  the  plains  of  Kitsee  rang  the  jubilant  cry,  "  Long  live 
Leopold  I    Long  live  our  emperor  I " 

**  And  now,"  said  the  emperor,  when  the  shouts  had  died 
away,  "now  let  me  see  your  children,  my  brave  veteran. — 
Baron  Dupin,"  added  Leopold,  addre&sing  himself  to  the  colo- 
nel of  the  regiment,  "  will  you  permit  them  to  step  out  of  their 
ranks?" 

Baron  Dupin  bowed,  and,  riding  to  the  front  with  drawn 
«word,  he  called  out :  "  All  the  descendants  of  Christopher 
Ill-forward!" 

There  was  a  general  movement  among  the  cuirassiers,  and 
fifty-four  men  rode  up,  and  clustered  around  their  common 
ancestor.  There  were  bronzed  faces  with  white  beards — 
others  with  gray ;  there  were  men  in  the  prime  of  life,  and 
others  in  the  flower ;  there  were  youths  approaching  man- 
hood, and  lads  that  had  scarcely  emerged  from  childhood  ;  but 
from  peeping  bud  to  fruit  that  was  about  to  fall,  they  one  and 
all  resembled  their  parent  stem  ;  every  mother's  son  of  them 
had  Christopher  Ill's  aquiline  nose,  and  large,  sparkling  eyes. 

"Your  majesty  perceives,"  said  the  old  man,  looking 
proudly  around  him,  "  that  if  I  have  sabred  many  a  Turk's 

♦  Thi«  18  historical,  and  in  1819,  on  tho  two  hundredth  anniverury  of  th« 
rescue,  the  privU^e  was  extended  to  the  present  time^—SM  Austrian  Plu- 
tarch. 


212  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

head,  I  have  replaced  each  one  by  that  of  a  Christian  ;  so  that 
I  owe  nothing  to  humanity  for  the  damage  my  sword  has 
done. — Now,  boys,  cry  out,  '  Long  live  the  emperor  ! ' '' 

So  the  boys,  young  and  old,  echoed  the  shout  ;  the  regi* 
ment  took  it  up,  and  for  the  third  time  Leopold's  heart  was 
cheered  by  the  enthusiastic  affection  of  the  army. 

"  Well,  Christopher,"  said  he,  gayly,  "  although  you  reject 
my  pension  for  yourself,  you  will  not,  I  hope,  reject  it  for 
your  sons.  Let  it  be  divided  between  them,  and  long  may 
you  live  to  see  them  enjoy  it ! " 

With  these  words,  the  emperor  raised  his  hat,  and  waving 
it  in  token  of  adieu,  he  returned  to  his  tent,  far  happier  than 
he  had  left  it  some  hours  before. 

"  Carl,"  said  he  to  the  Duke  of  Lorraine,  "  I  thank  you  for 
presenting  Christopher  111  to  my  notice.  That  old  man's 
spirit  is  catching,  and  I  feel  the  pleasant  infection.  I  recog- 
nize the  might  of  bravery,  and  it  seems  as  if  my  small  army 
had  doubled  its  numbers.  This  veteran,  who  in  his  person 
unites  the  history  of  six  of  my  predecessoi^,  has  taught  me 
that  individuals  are  nothing  in  the  sight  of  God.  Six  em- 
perors have  succumbed  to  the  immutable  laws  of  Nature,  but 
the  house  of  Hapsburg  is  still  erect.  What,  then,  if  I  meet 
with  reverses  ?  The  Lord  has  given  me  a  son,  who,  if  I  should 
"be  unfortunate,  will  prop  up  our  dynasty,  and  avenge  his 
father's  misfortunes." 

"  We  will  try  to  leave  him  none  to  avenge,  sire.  Your 
men  are  full  of  loyalty,  and  God  will  preserve  your  majesty's 
life  until  your  son  is  fit  to  be  your  successor." 

"  His  holy  will  be  done  ! "  said  Leopold,  crossing  himself  ; 
then,  having  given  orders  for  an  advance  upon  the  fortress  of 
Neuhausel,  he  changed  his  dress  preparatory  to  starting  for 
Vienna. 

He  had  just  been  equipped  in  his  black  travelling-suit  when 
Prince  Louis  of  Baden  entered  the  tent,  followed  by  a  young 
man  whose  simple  costume  presented  a  striking  contrast  to 
the  magnificence  of  the  uniforms  around.  He  wore  a  brown 
coat  buttoned  up  to  the  throat,  leaving  visible  merely  the  ends 
of  his  cravat  of  costly  Venetian  lace.  Ruffles  of  the  same  en- 
circled his  white  hands,  which,  it  was  easy  to  see,  had  never 


THE  PLAINS  OF  KITSEE.  213 

been  hardened  by  work,  or  browned  by  the  sun.  His  face, 
though  youthful,  bore  traces  of  thought  and  suffering ;  and 
his  bearing  was  self-possessed,  although  every  eye  was  upon 
him. 

•'Whom  bring  you  hither?"  inquired  Leopold,  with  a 
smile. 

"  Your  majesty,  I  bring  nothing  but  a  young  Savoyard : 
nevei-theless  I  predict  that,  one  of  these  days,  he  will  be  one 
of  the  great  generals  of  the  world."  * 

"  I  am  not  so  presumptuous  as  to  expect  that  I  will  ever 
rival  Prince  Ijouis  of  Baden  or  Charles  of  Lorraine,"  said  Eu- 
gene. "  All  I  have  to  ask  of  your  majesty  is  the  favor  of  be- 
ing allowed  to  serve  under  them." 

There  was  a  pause.  Everybody  looked  in  amazement  at 
the  bold  being  who,  all  court  etiquette  disregarding,  had  ven- 
tured to  address  the  emperor  without  being  spoken  to  by  his 
majesty ;  but  he  was  perfectly  unconscious  of  his  blunder. 
He  looked  so  frank,  so  modest,  and  yet  so  unembarrassed,  that 
the  emperor  was  disarmed,  and  a  smile  flickered  over  his  pleas- 
ant face. 

"  I  see  that  he  is  a  stranger,"  was  Leopold's  deprecatory  re- 
mark. "Present  him,  your  highness,  that  I  may  welcome 
him  to  Austria." 

The  prince  taking  the  young  man  by  the  hand,  led  him 
up  to  the  emperor. 

"  Sire,  I  have  the  honor  to  present  you  my  kinsman.  Prince 
Eugene  of  Savoy.  He  has  come  to  Austria  to  join  his  brother, 
and,  like  him,  to  serve  under  the  Austrian  flag." 

"Prince  Eugene  of  Savoy,  you  are  welcome  to  Austria," 
said  Leopold,  graciously. 

Eugene  answered  the  salutation  by  a  low  bow,  and  then 
calmly  raised  his  head.  But  Prince  Louis  of  Baden  whispered 
in  his  ear,  "  The  Spanish  genuflection— quick !  bend  the 
kneel" 

Eugene  looked  surprised,  for  he  had  not  understood  the 
warning.  But  the  emperor  had  overheard,  and  came  onco 
more  to  the  rescue. 

*  The  Margrave  of  Baden^s  own  word8.--SM  Annath,  **  Prince  Eugene," 
voL  i.,  p.  28. 


214  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

"Never  mind  the  Spanish  genuflection,"  interposed  he^ 
with  a  good-natured  laugh.  "  The  prince  is  not  my  subject ; 
he  has  been  educated  in  France,  where  people  know  littJe  or 
nothing  of  the  customs  and  usages  of  our  court." 

But  scarcely  were  the  words  out  of  Leopold's  mouth  before 
Eugene  had  approached  his  arm-chair,  and  had  fallen  on  one 
knee. 

"Sire,"  said  he,  in  his  soft,  melodious  voice,  whose  tones 
went  straight  to  the  emperor's  heart,  "allow  me  to  consider 
myself  as  your  subject,  and  to'Vender  you  homage  according 
to  the  usages  of  your  majesty's  court.  It  is  my  misfortune  to 
have  been  educated  in  France,  and  thereby  to  have  lost  twenty 
years  of  my  life." 

"  Why  lost  ? "  inquired  Leopold.  "  What  was  wanting  in 
France  to  make  you  happy  ? " 

"  Every  thing,  sire  ! "  cried  Eugene,  warmly.  "  And  the 
only  thing  I  did  not  want  was  thrust  upon  me." 

"Wliat  was  that?" 

"  The  tonsure,  sire.  I  begged  the  King  of  France  for  an  in- 
significant commission  in  his  army  ;  I  was  scornfully  repulsed. 
And  now  that  I  have  shaken  the  dust  of  his  dominions  from 
my  feet,  I  never  wish  to  return  thither  unless—" 

"Well,"  said  the  emperor,  as  Eugene  paused.  "Finish 
your  sentence.     '  Unless ' — " 

Eugene  raised  his  magnificent  eyes  until  they  met  those  of 
the  emperor.     Then,  in  a  calm  voice,  he  continued  : 

"Unless  I  could  do  so  as  his  majesty's  victorious  enemy."  * 

"  Your  majesty  sees  that  he  is  the  stuff  of  which  heroes  are 
made,"  observed  Louis  of  Baden. 

"You  do  not  love  France  ? "  said  Leopold. 

"Sire,  my  family  and  I  have  suffered  persecution  at  the 
hands  of  the  French  monarch,  and  I  yearn  for  satisfaction. 
Your  majesty  sees  how  unfit  I  am  to  be  a  priest,  for  I  cannot 
love  my  enemies,  nor  do  good  to  those  who  despitefully  use 

^e." 

"  Let  us  hope  that  you  will  learn  this  lesson  later.  Mean- 
while you  seem  more  fitted  for  the  career  of  a  soldier  than  the 
vocation  of  a  churchman.     Your  appearance  here  reminds  me 

*  Eugene's  own  words.— See  Eene,  "Mazarin's  Isieces." 


THE  PLAINS  OF  KITSEE.  215 

of  my  own  youth.  I,  too,  was  destined  for  the  priesthood,  and 
wore  the  garb  of  an  abbe.  I  was  a  younger  son,  and  nothing 
but  an  appendage  to  royalty.  But  it  pleased  God  of  His  serv- 
ant to  make  a  sovereign,  and  to  send  as  His  messenger,  death. 
My  brother  Ferdinand,  the  hope  of  Austria,  died,  and  I  stepped 
forth  from  my  insignificance  to  become  the  heir  to  a  mighty 
empire.  Your  brother  Louis  has  frequently  mentioned  you  to 
me,  and  from  him  I  learned  that  at  the  French  court  you  were 
known  as  *  the  little  abbe  ! '  If  of  me,  who  was  once  a  novice, 
Almighty  God  has  made  an  emperor — of  you,  little  abbe,  He 
may  make  a  great  warrior  ! " 

"  Sire,  my  fate  is  in  His  hands  ;  but  all  that  lies  in  my  own» 
I  will  do  to  serve  your  majesty  as  your  loyal  subject,  hoping 
to  follow  from  afar  in  the  footsteps  of  the  distinguished  models 
before  me. "  At  the  same  time,  Eugene  bowed  low  to  the  Duke 
of  Lorraine. 

"  Will  you  take  him  as  your  pupil  ?  "  asked  Leopold  of  his 
brother-in-law.  "  No  one  in  Austria  can  teach  him  better  how 
to  win  laurels." 

"With  your  majesty's  permission,  I  accept  the  task,"  re- 
plied the  duke.  "  But  he  must  expect  to  find  me  a  hard  mas- 
ter, and,  as  my  pupil  in  war,  to  have  little  leisure  for  aught 
else." 

**  You  see,"  said  Leopold,  gayly,  "  what  a  miserable  lot  you 
have  chosen  for  yourself.  You  have  fallen  from  Scylla  into 
Charybdis,  my  poor  youth." 

"  I  have  my  Ulysses,  your  majesty,  in  his  highness  of  Lor- 
raine.   I  give  myself  up  to  his  sage  guidance." 

'*  If  Prince  Eugene  is  as  ready  with  his  sword  as  with  his 
tongue,  my  enemies  will  have  to  look  out,  methinks,"  cried 
Leopold.  **  So  take  him  along,  Duke  of  Lorraine,  and  of  the 
little  abbe  of  the  King  of  France  make  a  great  captain  for  the 
Emperor  of  Austria." 

*'  With  your  majesty's  permission,  I  will  confer  upon  him 
the  rank  of  colonel,  and  the  first  vacancy  that  occurs.  Until 
then,  prince,  you  can  accompany  me  as  a  volunteer." 

**  As  a  volunteer  for  life,  your  highness."  replied  Eugene  ; 
''and,  although  I  have  already  to  thank  his  majesty  for  much 
gracious  encouragement,  I  fed  more  jfratcful  to  him  for  plac- 
It 


216  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

ing  me  under  your  highness's  orders,  than  for  any  other  of  the 
favors  he  has  so  kindly  bestowed  upon  me  to-day." 

"  I  am  glad  to  know  it,"  returned  the  emperor.  "  Follow 
your  leader,  then,  my  young  friend  ;  and  see  that,  although 
you  have  relinquished  the  priesthood,  you  hold  fast  to  Chris- 
tianity. We  part  for  a  time,  hut  we  shall  meet  again  before 
long.  Let  us  hope  that  it  may  be  to  give  thanks  to  God  for 
victory  and  peace." 

The  emperor  then  rose,  and,  followed  by  his  officers,  left 
the  tent.  His  carriage  stood  without,  and  in  a  few  moments, 
amid  the  respectful  greetings  of  his  stafP,  and  the  hurrahs  of 
the  army,  he  disappeared  from  the  plains  of  Kitsee. 

The  Duke  of  Lorraine  signed  to  Eugene  to  follow  him. 
Laying  his  hand  gently  upon  the  prince's  shoulder,  he  said : 
*'  Young  man,  you  have  requested  me  to  be  your  instructor, 
and  I  have  accepted  the  office,  for  you  please  me,  and  my 
heart  inclines  toward  you.  Let  me  then  begin  at  once.  I 
wish  to  give  you  some  advice." 

"  I  am  all  attention,  your  highness." 

"  Weigh  well  your  words,  before  you  give  them  utterance. 
You  will  find  enemies  in  the  Austrian  ranks,  as  well  as  in 
those  of  the  Turkish  army.  You  have  already  gained  a  few  ; 
and  by-and-by,  if  you  are  not  careful,  you  will  have  as  many 
as  myself." 

"What  can  I  have  done,  your  highness,  during  the  half 
hour  I  have  spent  in  his  majesty's  tent,  to  provoke  enmity 
from  the  strangers  around  me  ?  That  you  should  have  ene' 
mies,  I  comprehend  ;  for  distinction  always  calls  forth  envy, 
^ut  I,  an  unknown  youth  !  who  could  envy  me  ? " 

"  Those  who  saw  how  graciously  you  were  welcomed  by 
the  Emperor  of  Austria.  But  that  is  not  all.  You  have  of- 
fended your  kinsman,  Louis  of  Baden.  It  was  he  who  present- 
ed you  to  the  king.  He  is  a  brave  and  distinguished  officer, 
and  deserved  all  the  compliments  you  bestowed  upon  me.  Be- 
lieve me,  if  you  know  your  own  interest,  you  will  select  him 
for  your  model  and  master  in  the  art  of  war.  He  will  be  flat- 
tered at  your  preference,  and  will  serve  you  efficiently.  His 
friendship  is  worth  having." 

"  I  love  Louis  of  Baden  from  my  heart,"  said  Eugene  ;  "and, 


THE  BAPTISM  OF  BLOOD.  217 

after  your  highness,  he  has  the  first  place  in  my  consideration 
and  esteem." 

"  After  me,  say  you  ?  Give  himlhe  first  place,  and  he  will 
procure  you  rapid  advancement.  For  myself,  I  am  unpopu- 
lar, and  if  you  love  or  respect  me,  do  so  in  secret.  You  will 
not  long  have  been  an  Austrian  oflBcer  before  you  make  the 
discovery  that  it  is  not  politic  to  praise  Charles  of  Lorraine." 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE  BAPTISM  OF  BLOOD. 

War  had  begun.  Kara  Mustapha  advanced  into  Austria, 
looking  neither  to  the  right  nor  the  left,  marching  onward, 
onward  to  Vienna.  Such  obstacles  as  he  encountered  on  his 
way  he  removed  by  the  might  and  strength  of  his  forces,  as 
an  elephant  lifts  his  ponderous  foot  to  crush  a  pigmy  lying  in 
his  path.  His  march  was  through  burning  villages  and  devas- 
tated fields  ;  the  glare  of  his  torch  illumined  the  sky,  the  blood 
of  his  victims  reddened  the  earth.  Austria's  desponding  hopes 
were  concentrated  upon  the  Duke  of  Lorraine  ;  for  the  King 
of  Poland  had  not  arrived,  and  the  Elector  of  Bavaria  was  yet 
undecided. 

The  army  of  the  allied  enemies  increased  daily,  while  that 
of  the  Austrians  was  decimated  partly  by  contagious  diseases, 
partly  by  a  division  of  their  forces,  for  the  defence  of  the 
only  fortress  which  was  in  a  condition  to  arrest  the  advance  of 
the  Turks. 

The  duke's  army,  which  now  numbered  twenty-three  thou- 
sand men,  was  encamped  in  front  of  the  fortress  of  Raab  ;  for 
here  the  Turks  would  make  their  first  attack,  and  to  possess 
Raab  was  to  hold  the  key  of  Upper  Hungary  and  Central  Aus- 
tria. The  army  had  baited  there  in  the  course  of  the  after- 
noon, but,  as  night  approached,  the  hum  of  action  gradually 
eeased,  and  gloomy  silence  reigned  throughout  No  groups 
of  merry  soldiers  gathered  round  the  camp-fires  with  laugh,  or 
jest,  or  mirthful  song.    Some  slept  from  exhaustion  and  dis- 


218  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

eouragement,  others  sat  mournfully  gazing  toward  the  east, 
which,  unlike  the  dark  horizon  around,  was  lit  up  with  a  fiery 
glow,  that  marked  the  advance  of  the  ferocious  invaders.  In 
one  tent  pitched  on  a  hillock  that  overlooked  the  camp-ground, 
a  faint  light  shone  through  the  crevices  of  the  curtain  ;  and 
this  glimmering  spark  was  the  only  sign  of  life  that  was  to  be 
seen.     The  rest  of  the  camp  was  in  utter  darkness. 

The  tent  whence  beamed  this  solitary  light  was  that  of  the 
commander-in-chief,  to  whom  his  scouts  had  just  brought  in- 
telligence which  necessitated  prompt  action.  He  had  sent  for 
General  Caprara  and  Prince  Louis  of  Baden  ;  and  when  his 
interview  with  them  was  at  an  end,  he  dispatched  his  adjutant 
for  Prince  Eugene  of  Savoy. 

In  a  few  moments  Eugene  raised  the  hangings  of  the  tent 
and  silently  saluted  his  commander.  The  latter  seemed  not 
to  have  perceived  his  entrance.  He  stood  before  a  table,  lean- 
ing over  a  map  on  which  he  was  tracing  and  retracing  lines 
with  his  fingers.  Eugene  stepped  closer,  and  followed  the 
motions  of  the  duke  with  his  eyes.  He  seemed  to  understand 
them  ;  for  his  countenance  expressed  anxiety  and  astonish- 
ment. 

A  long  pause  ensued,  after  which  the  duke  raised  his  head 
and  spoke : 

"  You  have  been  here  for  some  time  ? " 

"  Yes,  your  highness  ;  I  came  as  soon  as  I  received  your 
orders." 

"  I  saw  the  shadow  of  your  head  on  the  map.  You  were 
watching  my  fingers  attentively.  I  was  glad  to  see  that  you 
were  interested.  What  did  you  infer  from  your  inspection  of 
the  map  ? " 

"  I  will  try  to  tell  your  highness  as  well  as  I  can,"  was  the 
modest  reply.  "  You  began  by  drawing  a  line  from  Stuhl- 
weissenburg  with  three  fingers.  This  represented  the  Turkish 
army,  composed  of  three  columns.  Your  forefinger  represented 
the  left  wing,  your  third  the  right  wing,  and  your  middle  fin- 
ger the  main  body  of  the  army.  The  two  wings  were  then  de- 
tached, and  made  a  circuitous  march  to  capture  the  fortress 
of  Wesgrim.  They  again  joined  the  main  army,  and  I  saw, 
with  astonishment,  that  the  consolidated  forces  had  flanked 


THE  BAPTISM   OF  BLOOD.  219 

Haab,  Comom,  and  Leopoldstadt,  had  i)assed  by  the  shores  of 
the  Neusidler  Sea,  and  were  now  encamped  on  the  banks  of 
the  Leitha." 

"  You  have  guessed  most  accurately,"  cried  the  duke,  who 
had  listened  in  amazement  to  Eugene's  reply. 

"  It  was  not  difficult  to  do,"  remarked  the  latter.  "  Since  I 
have  had  the  honor  of  serving  under  your  highness,  I  have 
studied  this  map  daily.  I  know  every  thicket,  every  forest, 
every  stream  laid  down  upon  it.  The  whole  countrj-  which 
it  comprises  is  as  familiar  to  me  as  if  I  surveyed  it  all  at  a 
glance.  It  is  not,  then,  surprising  that  I  should  imderstand 
the  movements  of  your  highness's  fingers." 

*'  You  think  it  quite  natural — I  consider  it  extraordinary. 
But  you  have  raised  my  curiosity  to  know  whether  you  also 
were  able  to  interpret  what  followed." 

"After  accompanying  the  enemy  to  the  banks  of  the 
Leitha,  your  highness  stopped,  raised  your  hand,  and  laid  your 
finger  upon  the  fortress  of  Raab.  This,  of  course,  denotes  the 
position  of  our  own  army,  and  the  direction  in  which  we  are 
to  move." 

"  Move  ?    We  came  here  to  defend  this  stronghold." 

"  We  have  been  flanked,  and  have  nothing  to  gain  by  a  de- 
fence of  Raab.  With  your  finger,  then,  upon  Raab,  you  were 
deliberating  as  to  the  route  we  are  to  take  ;  since  it  is  evident 
that,  if  we  are  not  prompt,  we  will  be  cut  off  from  Vienna. 
You  made  two  divisions  of  your  army.  One  fbiger  traced  a 
line  across  the  island  of  Schiitt  to  Presburg,  and  thence  to 
Vienna  ;  this,  I  presume,  denotes  the  march  of  the  infantry. 
The  other  finger,  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Danube,  drew  a  line 
from  Wieselburg  to  BEainburg,  and  this  route  would  be  for  our 
cavalry — it  is  too  rough  for  foot-soldiers." 

The  duke  listened  with  growing  interest,  and  when  Eugene 
ceased,  he  put  his  arm  affectionately  around  the  neck  of  the 
young  officer,  and  exclaimed,  "  I  congratulate  you,  Eugene. 
You  will  be  a  great  captain.  You  will  be  a  better  general  than 
L  Let  us  hope  that  you  will  also  be  a  more  fortunate  one— 
that  you  will  complete  what  I  have  begun — avenge  Austria's 
wrongs  on  France,  and  restore  her  to  her  place  as  one  of  the 
four  gresX  powers.     You  have  not  only  the  instincts  of  a 


220  PRINCE   EUGENE  AND   HIS   TIMES. 

soldier,  but  the  quickness  and  penetration  whicli  constitute 
military  genius.  My  pupil,  I  think,  will  ere  long  become  my 
master." 

"  Ah  I "  replied  Eugene,  "  unless  you  keep  me  as  a  pupil,  I 
shall  never  become  a  master. " 

"  The  little  that  I  know  you  shall  learn  from  me,  Eugene. 
I  have  predicted  for  you  a  glorious  career,  and,  as  far  as  lies  in 
my  power,  I  will  contribute  to  your  success.  But  success  is  as 
much  the  fruit  of  policy  as  of  genius.  You  must  not  proclaim 
your  preference  for  me  to  the  world  ;  it  will  impede  your  ad- 
vancement. To  obtain  promotion  you  must  be  an  ostensible 
adherent  of  my  enemies  ;  and  for  this  reason  I  shall  give  you 
some  command  near  the  persons  of  General  Caprara  and  Louis 
of  Baden." 

*'  Your  highness,  Louis  of  Baden  is  not — " 

*'  My  enemy,  you  would  say  ?  Believe  me,  I  know  human 
nature  better  than  you  do  ;  but  I  have  no  resentment  against 
Louis  on  account  of  his  animosity.  He  is  young,  ambitious, 
and  capable  ;  it  is  therefore  but  natural  that  he  should  covet 
my  position.  He  will  obtain  it,  for  all  my  enemies  will  give 
him  their  suffrages,  and  chief  among  them  all  is  the  Margrave 
Herman.  I,  on  the  contrary,  have  but  one  friend— the  em- 
peror." 

"  But  the  emperor  is  a  host  within  himself,"  cried  Eugene, 

"  If  you  think  so,  it  is  because  you  are  unacquainted  with 
the  intrigues  of  the  Austrian  court.  The  privy  council  has 
more  power  than  Leopold  ;  and  the  veritable  ruler  of  Austria 
is  the  minister  of  war,  who,  from  his  green-covered  table, 
plans  our  battles  and  commands  our  armies.  What  do  you 
suppose  are  my  instructions  from  the  war  department  ?  I 
must  first,  with  my  thirty-three  thousand  men,  hold  the  entire 
Turkish  army  in  check  ;  I  must  garrison  Raab,  Comorn,  and 
Leopoldstadt ;  I  must  defend  fifty  miles  of  frontier  between 
the  pass  of  Jublunkau  and  Pettau  ;  I  must  oppose  the  passage 
of  the  enemy  to  Vienna  ;  and  having  accomplished  all  these 
impossibilities,  I  must  end  by  giving  him  battle  wherever  and 
whenever  I  meet  him."  * 

"  Impossible,  indeed  !  "  cried  Eugene,  indignantly. 

*  Kausler,  "  Life  of  Eugene  of  Savoy." 


THE  BAPTISM  OF  BLOOD.  221 

'*  And,  for  that  very  reason,  assigned  to  me  as  my  duty. 
For,  as  I  shaJl  certainly  not  accomplish  it,  there  will  be  an  out- 
cry at  my  incapacity,  and  a  pretext  for  my  removal.  I  shall 
fulfil  my  obligations  nevertheless,  as  c-onscientiously  to  foes  as 
to  friends.  I  have  borne  arms  for  the  emperor  against  France, 
Sweden,  Hungary,  and  Turkey  ;  if  it  serve  his  interests  or  those 
of  Austria,  I  am  ready  to  struggle  with  his  enemies  at  home  ; 
but,  if  my  championship  is  to  be  dangerous  to  my  sovereign  or 
to  my  country,  I  shall  resign  without  a  protest.  As  for  you, 
my  son,  the  path  of  glory  is  open  to  you  ;  perhaps  before  an- 
other sun  has  set,  you  may  flesh  your  maiden  sword  in  the  blood 
of  the  infidel.  You  have  anticipated  my  intentions.  We  are 
about  to  march  to  Vienna.  Do  you  hear  the  signal  ?  The 
men  are  being  awakened  ;  and  in  one  hour  we  must  be  on  our 
way.  I  sent  for  you  to  bid  you  fai*ewell.  So  far,  you  have 
been  attached  to  my  person,  and  I  have  learned  to  esteem  and 
love  you.  But  the  opportunity  for  you  to  disting^sh  yourself 
is  at  hand,  and  I  must  no  longer  retain  you  by  me.  I  assign 
you  to  your  brother's  regiment  of  dragoons.  It  belongs  to  the 
brigade  of  Prince  Louis,  and  the  division  of  General  Caprara. 
I  part  from  you  reluctantly,  but  I  do  it  for  your  own  good  ; 
and  I  hope  soon  to  make  honorable  mention  of  my  favorite 
oflBcer  to  the  emperor." 

"  My  dear  lord,"  answered  Eugene,  in  a  voice  that  trembled 
with  emotion,  "  I  will  do  all  that  I  can  to  deserve  your  ap- 
proval. I  care  for  naught  else  in  this  world  ;  and  if  after  a 
battle  you  say  that  you  are  satisfied  with  me,  I  shall  be  richly 
rewarded  for  any  peril,  any  sacrifice." 

At  this  moment  the  curtain  of  the  tent  was  drawn  aside, 
and  the  duke^s  staff  entered.  He  waved  his  hand  in  token  of 
adieu  to  Eugene,  at  the  same  time  saying  : 

**  And  now,  colonel,  Prince  of  Savoy,  you  will  join  your 
brother's  regiment  It  has  received  its  orders,  and  is  in  readi- 
ness to  depart** 

Eugene  bowed  low  and  left  the  tent. 

The  Austrian  camp  was  now  alive  and  in  motion,  but  the 
men  were  spiritless  and  taciturn.  Conscious  of  the  immense 
superiority  of  the  enemy,  they  advanced  to  meet  him  with 
more  of  resignation  than  of  hope.    Not  only  were  they  out- 


222  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

numbered,  but  their  foe  was  one  whose  every  step  was  marked 
by  incendiarism  and  murder.  The  zest,  the  incentive  to  gal- 
lantry, was  gone  ;  and,  believing  that  they  were  going  forth  to 
death,  they  went  like  victims  to  an  inevitable  doom.  Far  dif- 
ferent were  the  feelings  with  which  Eugene  mounted  his  horse, 
and  crossed  the  field  to  join  the  division  of  General  Caprara. 
He  found  Prince  Louis  of  Savoy  already  in  the  saddle,  await- 
ing his  arrival.  The  brothers  greeted  each  other  with  fondest 
affection. 

"  Dear  Eugene,"  said  Louis,  "  my  heart  is  joyous,  since  I 
know  that  we  are  to  go  in  company.  How  sweet  and  home- 
like it  is  to  have  you  with  me  !  By-and-by,  we  shall  see  you 
cutting  off  Turks'  heads  as  if  they  were  poppies.'* 

"  For  each  one  that  I  send  to  his  account,  I  mean  to  claim  a 
kiss  from  my  beautiful  sister-in-law." 

"  You  are  welcome  if  you  can  get  them,"  laughed  Louis. 
"  But  Urania  is  not  prodigal  of  her  kisses,  Eugene  ;  I  never 
was  able  to  obtain  a  single  one  until  she  became  my  wife. 
But  let  us  not  speak  of  her.  Love  is  any  thing  but  an  incen- 
tive to  valor  ;  and  just  now  I  almost  envy  you  who  have 
never  loved.  If  you  intend  to  be  a  soldier,  twine  no  myrtle 
with  your  laurels  until  you  shall  have  attained  renown." 

Eugene's  brow  darkened,  and  a  gleam  of  anguish  shot 
athwart  his  countenance.     "  I  shall  never,"  began  he — 

But  just  at  that  moment  the  trumpet's  peal  was  heard,  and 
Prince  Louis,  galloping  off,  gave  the  word  of  command  to 
move  on. 

And  now  was  heard  the  roll  of  the  drum,  the  clang  of  arms, 
the  stamp  of  horses,  and  the  measured  tread  of  men.  The  in- 
fantry took  the  left,  the  cavalry  the  right  bank  of  the  Danube. 
When  morning  dawned,  the  camp  lay  far  behind  them,  but 
the  road  was  long  that  led  to  Vienna. 

The  two  Princes  of  Savoy  rode  together.  Little  had  been 
said  by  either  one,  but  whenever  their  eyes  met,  each  read  in 
the  glance  of  the  other  that  he  was  dearly  loved,  and  then  they 
smiled,  and  relapsed  into  silence.  After  riding  in  this  way  for 
several  miles.  Prince  Louis  spoke. 

"  I  wish  to  ask  you  something,  Eugene.  But  promise  not  to 
ridicule  me." 


THE  BAPTISM  OP  BLOOD.  223 

"  I  promise,  with  all  my  heart." 

"Then  tell  me— do  you  believe  in  dreams  and  presenti- 
ments ? " 

Eugene  reflected  for  a  while  and  then  said,  "  Yes — you 
know  that  our  family  have  every  reason  to  believe  in  dreams. 
Mine  have  often  been  realized  ;  and  often  too,  I  must  confess, 
that  they  have  deceived  me — but  still  I  am  a  believer." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  his  brother,  "  I  shall  meet  my  death  to- 
day." 

Eugene  shuddered.  "  Meet  your  death  ! "  exclaimed  he. 
"  This  is  a  grim  jest,  dear  Louis." 

**  No  jest,  brother  ;  a  serious  prediction.  Last  night  I  saw 
myself  mortally  wounded,  and  I  heard  the  wailing  of  my  wife 
and  children,  when  the  news  of  my  death  was  brought  to 
them.  It  was  so  vivid  that  it  awakened  me.  Dear  Eugene, 
if  I  fall,  be  a  brother  to  my  Urania,  a  father  to  my  chil- 
dren." 

"I  will,  I  will,  Louis,  but  God  forbid  that  they  should 
need  protection  from  me  I  Were  you  to  die,  I  should  lose  my 
only  friend,  for  whom  have  I  to  love  in  this  world  besides 
yourself,  dear  brother  ?  " 

"Nay,  Eugene,"  returned  Louis,  "I  cannot  be  your  only 
or  your  dearest  friend,  for  you  do  not  trust  me.  From  our 
cousins,  the  Princes  de  Conti,  I  learned  that  you  had  endured 
some  great  soitow  at  the  hands  of  Louvois,  the  French  min- 
ister of  war.  I  have  waited  for  you  to  confide  your  troubles 
to  me,  but —    Great  God  I    What  is  the  matter  ? " 

Eugene  had  reined  in  his  horse  with  such  force,  that  it 
seemed  to  be  falling  back  upon  its  haunches.  His  face  was 
deadly  pale,  and  his  hand  raised  imploringly. 

"  My  head  reels,"  murmured  he,  in  return.  "  I  dare  not 
think  of  the  past,  much  less  speak  of  it.  Dear,  dear  brother, 
do  not  exact  it  of  me.  Be  content  to  know  that,  for  three 
days  of  my  life,  I  was  happy  beyond  the  power  of  man  to  ex- 
press—but for  three  days  only.  What  followed  almost  cost 
me  my  reason  ;  and  the  mere  mention  of  my  misfortune  un- 
settles it  to-day.  Give  me  your  hand,  and  let  us  drop  this 
subject  forever,  Louis.  I  have  no  past ;  futurity  is  everything 
to  me." 


224  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

"  So  be  it,"  replied  Louis,  grasping  his  brother's  hand  with 
fervor.     "  From  this  day  we  are  comrades  for  life  !  " 

Their  hands  remained  clasped  for  a  few  seconds  :  then,  as  by 
a  simultaneous  impulse,  the  brothers  struck  spurs  into  their 
horses'  flanks,  and  galloped  swiftly  onward.  The  troops  were 
allowed  to  halt  but  once  during  the  day  ;  they  went  on  and  on 
until  sunset,  when  they  arrived  within  sight  of  the  market- 
town  of  Petronelle.  Between  the  city  and  the  tired  troopers 
was  a  wide  plain,  whose  uniformity  was  broken  here  and  there 
by  the  ruins  of  ancient  Roman  fortifications. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  cry,  a  clash  of  swords,  and  a  clang 
of  trumpets  uttering  strange  sounds  ;  and,  as  the  regiment  of 
the  Princes  of  Savoy  was  defiling  along  a  passage  between  the 
ruins,  a  troop  of  Tartars  that  had  been  in  ambuscade  behind^ 
sprang  out,  uttering  the  most  hideous  yells. 

"  Forward  ! "  cried  Prince  Louis,  brandishing  his  sword. 

"  Forward  ! "  echoed  Eugene,  joyfully,  spurring  his  horse 
into  their  very  midst.  For  a  while  the  brothers  fought  side  by 
side,  Louis  with  calm  intrepidity,  Eugene  with  the  instinct,  the 
enthusiasm,  the  inspiration  of  genius.  His  sword  mowed 
down  the  Tartars  as  the  reaper's  scythe  sweeps  away  the 
grass  ;  but  unhappily  the  attack  had  been  so  sudden,  and  the 
cries  which  had  accompanied  it  so  frightful,  that  the  Austrians 
became  panic-stricken,  and  their  ranks  disorderly. 

In  vain  the  elder  Prince  of  Savoy  tried  to  rally  them  ;  in 
vain  Eugene,  followed  by  a  few  veterans,  called  upon  them 
to  charge ;  his  reckless  gallantry  availed  him  nothing.  Fi- 
nally his  arm  with  its  unsheathed  sword,  dropped  discoui-- 
aged  at  his  side. 

"  Lost,  lost ! "  cried  he  to  his  brother.  "  Lost  and  dis» 
graced  I " 

"  Yes,  by  Heaven,  thoy  are  flying  ! "  was  the  despairing 
reply.  But  as  he  spoke  the  words,  he  saw  that  he  was  in  error. 
The  galloping  horses  were  coming  nearer  and  nearer,  and  now 
they  saw  that  re-enforcement  was  at  hand.  The  Duke  of  Lor- 
raine with  his  cavalry  was  flying  to  their  rescue,  and  the  fight 
was  resumed.  The  dragoons,  encouraged  by  the  sight  of  their 
commander-in-chief,  now  charged  the  Tartars,  and  they  in 
their  turn  began  to  fly. 


THE  BAPTISM  OF  BLOOD.  225 

Prince  Louis  was  eager  to  pursue  them,  and,  calling  his 
men,  the  chase  began.  His  horse  outstripped  the  others,  and 
unhappily  was  so  conspicuous  a  mark,  that  the  arrow  of  a 
Calmuck,  hidden  behind  the  ruins  of  a  triumphal  arch,  pierced 
his  breast.  Maddened  by  pain,  the  animal  leaped  so  high  in 
Ihe  air  that  his  rider  was  thrown  to  the  ground  ;  and  while 
the  horse  rushed  on,  his  master  was  trodden  down  by  his  own 
dragoons,  who,  in  the  eagerness  of  pursuit,  trampled  their  un- 
fortunate commander  to  death. 

The  enemy  had  been  repulsed,  and  the  troops  were  in  better 
spirits.  Eugene  rode  from  rank  to  rank,  repeating  the  same 
words,  "  Where  is  my  brother  ?  Where  is  the  Prince  of  Sa- 
voy?'' 

Not  a  man  there  could  answer  his  questions,  for  not  one 
had  seen  his  leader  fall.  At  length,  it  was  remembered  that 
a  wounded  horse  had  been  seen  madly  rushing  over  the  plain, 
but  the  excited  troopers  had  given  no  heed  to  the  circum- 
stance ;  it  was  an  occurrence  too  common  in  an  engagement, 
to  arrest  them  for  a  moment  from  their  pursuit  of  an  enemy. 

Eugene's  heart  was  bounding  with  joy,  and  he  had  been 
seeking  his  brother  to  give  and  receive  congratulations.  His 
countenance,  which  had  been  glowing  with  pride,  became  sud- 
denly disturbed  ;  his  flashing  eyes  grew  dull  and  leaden,  and 
so  for  one  moment  he  sat,  stricken  and  motionless.  But  he 
started  from  his  lethargy,  and  crying  out  to  his  men,  "  Follow 
me  I "  they  galloped  away  to  the  spot  where  the  dying  and  the 
dead  were  heaped  together  near  the  ruined  arch  where  the 
Tartars  had  been  concealed. 

In  an  instant  the  unfortunate  youth  saw  the  body  of  his 
brother.  He  flung  himself  from  his  horse,  and  knelt  down  by 
his  side.  Gracious  Heaven  I  was  that  bruised  and  shapeless 
mass  all  that  remained  of  the  comeliness  and  grace  of  Louis 
of  Savoy  1 

Eugene  bent  down,  and,  lovingly  as  a  mother  lifts  her  new- 
bom  infant,  he  raised  his  brother's  mangled  head,  and  rested 
it  upon  his  arm.  The  hot  tears  that  fell  upon  that  poor,  bleed- 
ing face,  awoke  the  small  remnant  of  life  that  was  pulsating 
in  the  dying  prince's  heart,  and  his  fllray  eyes  unclosed.  Their 
light  was  almost  extinguished,  but  Eugene  saw  that  be  was 


226  PRINCE   EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

recognized,  for  the  feeble  spark  kindled,  and  the  pale  lips 
fluttered. 

"  My  dreara  ! "  were  the  words  he  uttered,  "  my  dream  ! " 

"  No,  no  ! "  cried  Eugene,  in  piercing  tones  of  anguish,  while 
with  his  trembling  hand  he  stroked  his  brother's  hair  and 
wiped  the  death-dew  from  his  brow. 

"  Eugene,"  murmured  Louis,  "  my  wife — my  chil — " 

''  Oh  !  they  shall  be  mine— mine,  beloved,''  was  the  passion- 
ate reply. 

"Kiss  me,  brother,  and — bear  the  kiss  to  my  Urania." 

Eugene  stifled  his  sobs,  and  kissed  the  pale,  cold  lips.  A 
shudder  crossed  the  frame  of  the  dying  man,  a  torrent  of  blood 
gushed  from  his  lips,  and  moving  his  head  so  that  it  rested 
close  to  his  brother's  heart,  he  expired. 

With  a  groan,  Eugene  fell  upon  his  lifeless  body.  How 
long  he  had  lain  there  he  knew  not,  when  he  felt  a  gentle 
touch  upon  his  shoulder.  He  looked  up,  and  beheld  the  Duke 
of  Lorraine. 

"  Prince  Eugene,"  said  he,  "  war  has  claimed  from  you  a 
terrible  sacrifice.  You  have  lost  a  brother  whom  you  most 
tenderly  loved.  But  a  soldier  must  conquer  grief  ;  and  who 
more  than  he  should  remember  that  death,  however  painful, 
cancels  all  human  woes  ? " 

Eugene  rose  slowly  to  his  feet,  and  raised  his  hand  all  pur- 
ple with  his  brother's  gore.  "  See,"  said  he,  "  my  brother  has 
given  me  the  baptism  of  war,  and  now  I  dedicate  myself  to 
strife.  This  blood- besprinkled  hand  shall  smite  the  Turk, 
shall  ruin  his  fields,  shall  devastate  his  towns. — Ah,  Louis  I 
Ambition  has  hitherto  been  my  incentive  to  glory,  but  revenge 
is  stronger  than  ambition,  and  revenge  shall  lift  me  to  great- 
ness ! " 

The  setting  sun  poured  down  a  stream  of  light  upon  the 
speaker,  who,  small,  delicate,  and  insignificant,  seemed  trans- 
figured into  the  genius  of  war.  The  dragoons  around  looked 
upon  him  with  awe  ;  and,  long  years  after,  they  were  accus- 
tomed to  relate  the  circumstance  of  Prince  Louis's  death,  and 
Prince  Eugene's  vow. 


VIENNA,  227 

CHAPTER  X. 

VIENNA. 

"The  Turks,  the  Turks  !  The  Tartars  are  coming  1  The 
Duke  of  Lorraine  has  been  defeated  I    We  are  lost  I  " 

Such  were  the  cries  in  Vienna,  on  the  morning  of  the  8th 
of  July,  1683.  A  courier  from  the  Duke  of  Lorraine  had 
brought  news  of  the  unfortunate  skirmish  near  Petronelle, 
and  had  warned  the  emperor  of  the  approach  of  the  enemy. 
Leopold  had  acted  upon  the  information  at  once,  and  prep- 
arations were  making  by  the  royal  family  to  evacuate  Vi- 
enna. 

This  fact  was  no  sooner  known  throughout  the  city,  than 
thousands  of  its  inhabitants  prepared  to  follow.  If  the  em- 
I)eror  deserted  his  capital,  it  was  because  he  knew  that  it  must 
fall ;  and  those  who  loved  their  lives  were  determined  to  fly. 
From  palace  to  hut  there  was  but  one  common  feeling — a  fren- 
zied desii-e  to  go  elsewhere — anywhere  rather  than  remain  to 
be  butchered  by  the  infidel. 

Whosoever  ix)ssessed  a  carriage,  a  wagon,  a  cart,  was  an 
object  of  greater  envy  than  he  who  counted  his  treasures  by 
millions.  Incredible  prices  were  offered  and  received  for  the 
roughest  of  conveyances.  Before  every  house  stood  vehicles 
of  every  kind,  crowded  with  fugitives,  upon  whom  the  poorer 
classes  gazed  with  longing  eyes  ;  many  of  them,  by  dint  of 
tears  and  prayers,  obtaining  liberty  to  hang  on  the  wagons  as 
they  drove  away. 

And  now  amid  the  throng  arose  a  cry.  "  The  emperor ! 
the  emperor  I " 

Yes — he  sat  in  his  imperial  carriage,  pale,  mournful,  silent 
And  at  his  side,  sorrowful  a^  Me,  was  the  Empress  Eleanor. 
Behind  them,  in  another  carnage,  came  the  aja,  with  the 
crown  prince  of  Austria  in  her  arms.  Alas !  not  even  for 
that  innocent  babe  was  there  safety  to  be  found  in  the  doomed 
city. 

The  people,  like  madmen,  rushed  through  the  streets  behind 
the  imperial  cortege.    Whither  their  sovereign  went,  they  de- 


228  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

termined  to  follow  ;  for  with  him,  they  fancied,  they  would 
find  refuge  from  the  terrible  Turk. 

The  retinue  of  the  emperor  took  the  way  toward  the  Dan- 
ube, and  the  long  train  of  carriages  thundered  over  its  wide 
bridge.     At  intervals  the  people  shouted  : 

"  Follow  his  imperial  majesty  !  Whither  our  sovereign 
travels,  we  must  go  for  safety  ! "  And  for  six  hours  the  bridge 
was  thronged  with  passengers  ;  some  in  vehicles,  some  cling- 
ing to  vehicles  ;  ladies  and  lackeys  together  in  rumbles,  or 
together  hanging  to  the  carriage-doors.  Never  in  his  life 
had  such  a  cortege  followed  the  Emperor  of  Austria ;  and 
certainly  a  procession  more  mournful  had  never  accompa- 
nied a  sovereign  before.  Leopold's  destination  was  Linz ; 
but  the  way  was  tedious,  the  roads  sandy,  and  the  sun's  rays 
scorching.  Poor  horses  !  they  were  white  with  sweat ;  but 
still  the  drivers  urged  them  on,  for  relays  there  ivere  none. 
Terror  had  almost  depopulated  the  country.  Toward  nightfall 
the  fugitives  were  compelled  to  halt,  for  their  tired  animals 
were  too  stiff  to  travel  farther,  and  themselves  were  weary  and 
hungry. 

They  had  reached  a  small  village,  where  Leopold  gave 
orders  to  have  beds  and  supper  prepared  for  his  pale  and  worn- 
out  empress. 

"Ah,  yes  !"  sighed  she,  "  I  am  hungry  and  sleepy." 

But  from  some  mismanagement,  the  wagons  containing  the 
beds  and  provisions  of  the  imperial  family  had  either  stopped 
on  the  way,  or  had  never  left  Vienna. 

The  poor  empress  folded  her  hands  and  began  to  pray. 
The  emperor  bowed  his  head.  "  My  house  is  sorely  in  need,'* 
said  he,  sadly,  "  but  we  are  all  in  the  hands  of  Almighty  God. 
Whithersoever  it  be  His  will  to  exile  us,  I  am  ready  to  go  ? 
and  may  His  holy  will  be  done  ! " 

The  imperial  pair  then  left  ^heir  carriage,  and,  a  bed  being 
made  of  the  cloaks  of  the  pages,  they  laid  them  down  to  sleep 
under  the  dark-blue  vault  of  the  spangled  heavens.  But,  at 
the  dawn  of  day,  they  resumed  their  journey.  The  horses  had 
rested,  and  the  gentlemen  of  the  imperial  household  had  pro- 
cured some  homely  refreshments  for  the  famished  monarch 
and  his  family.    It  consisted  of  eggs,  milk,  and  black  bread ; 


VIENNA.  229 

but  hunger  lent  it  savor,  and  their  majesties  ate  with  more 
relish,  perhaps,  than  they  had  ever  done  before. 

They  set  out  again.  Their  way  now  lay  over  cornfields, 
where  the  farmers,  with  their  maids  and  men,  were  gather- 
ing the  wheat,  and  binding  it  into  sheaves.  They,  too,  were 
in  terror  of  the  Turks  ;  but,  when  they  saw  the  imperial 
cortege  slowly  plodding  its  way  through  ihe  sandy  road,  they 
stopped  their  work,  and,  coming  up  to  the  portieres,  intruded 
their  coarse,  brutal  faces  into  the  very  carriages  themselves. 
They  stared  at  the  empress  and  jeered  at  the  emperor  ;  in- 
quired how  he  liked  his  crown,  and  why  he  did  not  wear  it  on 
his  head.  They  added  tliat  it  was  a  fine  thing  to  be  on  a 
throne,  to  be  sure  ;  but  emperors  had  a  right  to  their  share  of 
trouble  in  this  world,  quite  as  much  as  other  people  ;  perhaps 
they  deserved  a  little  more  than  others. 

When  the  officers  and  pages  around  heard  this  insolent 
scoffing,  they  di*ew  their  swords,  and  would  have  made  short 
work  of  the  boors ;  but  Leopold  forbade  the  use  of  violence. 
**  Let  them  alone,"  said  he,  mildly.  "  They  are  quite  right.  It 
is  easy  to  be  a  monarch  while  the  sun  shines,  and  the  empire 
prospers  ;  let  me  hope  to  prove  to  my  subjects  that  I  can  bear 
my  reverses  with  humility  and  fortitude.  Let  these  people 
alone  ;  for  all  trials  come  from  above,  and  in  His  own  good 
time  God  will  help  us,  and  end  our  tribulations." 

The  peasants,  ashamed,  slunk  back  into  their  fields,  and  the 
imperial  retinue  went  on  to  Linz,  while  for  those  that  had  re- 
mained in  Vienna  there  ensued  a  period  of  danger,  hardships, 
and  terrible  endurance. 

Count  Rudiger  von  Starhemberg,  who  had  been  chosen  to 
defend  Vienna,  entered  upon  his  perilous  responsibilities  with 
enthusiasm  and  energy.  Rich  and  poor,  great  and  small,  were 
called  upon  to  contribute  to  the  general  welfare.  Nobles  of 
high  degree  worked  on  the  defences ;  ladies  brought  baskets 
of  provisions  to  the  laborers ;  and  the  mayor  of  Vienna,  by 
way  of  setting  the  example  to  his  inferiors,  carried  sand  all 
day  in  a  wheelbarrow  to  the  fortifications.  But  bravely  as 
they  worked,  each  day  augmented  their  danger.  The  Bentinels 
on  St.  Stephen's  towers  could  see,  by  the  reddened  heavens, 
that  the  Turk  was  approaching.    On  the  12th  of  July  the  sum* 


230  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

mit  of  the  Kalilenberg  was  seen  to  be  in  flames  ;  and  the  be- 
sieged had  no  need  to  be  told  that  a  monastery  had  been  de- 
stroyed, and  its  occupants  perchance  put  to  the  sword.  Kara 
Mustapha  invested  Vienna,  and  sent  to  demand  the  surrender 
of  the  city.     It  was  refused,  and  the  siege  was  begun. 

The  Turks  pitched  their  tents  at  the  distance  of  several 
miles,  and  began  to  mine.  Meanwhile  a  terrible  fire  broke 
out  in  Vienna  which  threatened  destruction  to  its  inhabitants. 
Driven  onward  by  a  high  wind,  it  consumed  street  after  street, 
and  at  length  approached  the  arsenal,  within  whose  precincts 
were  a  shot-tower  and  the  powder-magazine.  Thousands  of  citi- 
zens were  at  the  engines,  making  despairing  efforts  to  arrest 
the  conflagration  ;  but  the  licking  flames  came  fast  and  faster 
toward  the  shot-tower.  The  wretched  Viennese  had  given  up 
every  hope  of  salvation,  when  Count  Guido  von  Starhemberg, 
the  nephew  of' the  commanding  general,  rescued  Vienna  at  the 
risk  of  his  own  life.  Accompanied  by  a  few  soldiers,  he  en- 
tered the  tower,  and  deluged  the  powder-barrels  with  water. 
Animated  by  the  noble  devotion  of  the  young  count,  others 
followed  him  with  new  supplies.  The  windows  of  the  powder- 
magazine  were  then  walled  up,  and  the  fire  extinguished. 

Scarcely  had  the  Viennese  recovered  from  this  threatened 
catastrophe  before  danger  assailed  them  from  another  quarter. 
The  Turkish  lines  grew  closer  around  the  city,  and  the  Duke 
of  Lorraine,  who,  in  the  interim,  had  arrived,  and  had  en- 
camped on  an  island  in  the  Danube,  was  forced  back  to  Mora 
via,  there  to  await  the  long-promised  succor  of  the  King  of 
Poland,  and  the  long-procrastinated  re-enforcements  of  the 
Elector  of  Bavaria. 

Within  the  gates  their  foes  were  sickness,  discouragement, 
hunger,  and  mutiny.  With  these  intestine  enemies  Count  von 
Starhemberg  battled  manfully.  His  own  spirit  and  courage 
were  the  weapons  he  used  to  keep  down  discontent.  Day  and 
night  he  was  in  the  trenches  :  and  when,  by  skilful  counter- 
mining, his  men  had  succeeded  in  taking  the  lives  of  a  few 
hundred  Turks,  Count  Yon  Starhemberg  embraced  the  miners, 
and  took  the  earliest  opportunity  of  rewarding  them. 

Undaunted  by  the  Turkish  bullets,  he  visited  the  ramparts 
three  times  daily,  until  finally  he  was  struck  by  one  of  the 


VIENNA.  231 

balls  that  were  constantly  aimed  at  him,  and  severely  wounded 
in  the  head.  He  was  picked  up  insensible,  and  earned  home  ; 
but  Rudiger  Ton  Starhemberg  had  no  time  to  be  sick  :  so  three 
days  after  he  rose  from  his  bed,  and,  with  his  head  bound  up, 
mounted  his  horse,  and  returned  to  his  post. 

His  short  absence  had  been  productive  of  much  evil  in 
Vienna.  It  had  dispirited  the  timid  and  emboldened  the  in- 
subordinate. But  Count  Rudiger  had  an  iron  will,  and  no 
sympathy  for  weakness  that  endangered  the  state.  An  officer 
having  neglected  his  watch,  and  permitted  the  Turks  to  in- 
trench themselves  in  front  of  a  bastion  whereof  he  had  the 
guard,  Count  von  Starhemberg  gave  him  his  choice  between 
the  gallows  and  a  sortie  wherein  he  should  meet  the  death  of 
a  soldier.  The  officer  chose  the  latter  alternative,  and  died 
after  performing  prodigies  of  valor. 

Two  soldiers  hsid  resisted  the  commands  of  their  captain. 
Both  were  arrested,  and  one  of  them  accused  the  other  of  hav- 
ing instigated  him  to  insubordination.  In  presence  of  their 
regiment  they  were  made  to  throw  for  their  lives,  and  he  who 
threw  the  lowest  number  was  taken  out  and  shot. 

From  the  fulfilment  of  their  duty  to  the  country.  Count 
von  Starhemberg  would  exempt  neither  age  nor  sex.  Two 
boys  of  less  than  twelve  years  of  age  wei*e  accused  of  having 
secret  understanging  with  the  enemy,  by  which,  for  a  rich  re- 
ward, they  were  to  open  the  gates  at  night,  and  deliver  the 
city  into  Elara  Mustapha's  hands.  Count  von  Starhemberg  in- 
yestigated  the  matter  thoroughly,  and,  the  fact  having  been 
proved  upon  the  boys,  they  were  executed. 

But  hunger  and  disease  were  fast  decreasing  the  ranks  of 
the  besieged.  The  hospitals  were  so  crowded  with  patients, 
that  no  more  could  obtain  admittance  ;  and  the  commander, 
who  seemed  to  have  an  expedient  for  every  disaster,  appealed 
to  the  women  of  Vienna  to  receive  the  sufferers  in  their 
houses.  They  responded,  as  woman  does,  to  the  claims  of  hu- 
manity, and,  carrying  their  devotion  further  than  was  required, 
they  visited  the  hospitals,  and  brought  food  to  the  men  on  the 
ramparts,  to  refresh  and  invigorate  them  as  tliey  worked. 

But  unhappily,  the  day  came  when  substantial  food  was  no 
longer  to  be  gotten.  The  city  was  invested,  and  no  suppliei 
IG 


232  PRINCE   EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

could  come  from  without.  The  Duke  of  Lorraine  had  prom- 
ised re-enforcements  toward  the  end  of  the  month  ;  and  yet  the 
SOth  day  of  August  had  dawned,  and  no  help  was  vouchsafed. 

But  there  was  yet  another  night  to  pass  before  they  would 
despair  of  his  coming.  Crowds  of  men  assembled  on  the  towers 
of  St  Stephen's,  that  they  might  hear  from  the  lips  of  the 
sentinels  the  first  tidings  of  joy  ;  in  the  churches  women  and 
children  were  on  their  knees  imploring  Heaven  to  send  them 
succor  ;  while  without  the  Turks,  who  had  just  begun  a  fresh 
assault,  were  thinning  the  ranks  of  theii'  defenders,  and  adding 
to  the  mournful  numbers  of  the  widows  and  orphans  of 
Vienna. 

By  morning  the  Turks  had  mined  a  passage  to  the  strong- 
hold of  Ravelin.  Thither  rushed  the  men  with  pikes,  sabres, 
and  clubs  ;  and  beliind  them  came  their  wives  and  daughters 
with  boiling  pitch  and  oil,  with  sacks  of  sand  and  ashes,  to 
throw  upon  the  invaders  as  they  emerged  from  their  subter- 
ranean passage.  The  expedient  was  successful ;  the  enemy 
was  repulsed  with  loss,  and  the  fall  of  Vienna  averted  for  an- 
other day. 

A  messenger  from  the  emperor  had  managed  to  pass  the 
Turkish  lines,  promising  help  to  the  brave  besieged,  could  they 
but  hold  out  till  the  middle  of  September  ;  but,  after  ten  weeks 
of  struggle,  patient  waiting,  and  hope  deferred,  two  weeks 
seemed  an  eternity.  Nevertheless  the  indomitable  Starhem- 
berg  reanimated  their  courage,  not  only  by  words,  but  by  his 
noble  and  unselfish  endurance  of  hardship,  his  fearless  defi- 
ance of  danger.  They  had  resisted  fiLfteen  assaults  of  the  ene- 
my, and  had  made  twenty-one  sallies  outside  of  the  defences. 
He  knew  that,  if  they  chose,  their  valiant  souls  would  sustain 
them  for  two  weeks  longer,  and  his  burning  words  prevailed. 

Once  more  they  rallied,  and  defended  themselves  with 
desperation.  Though  shells  were  bursting  over  their  houses 
and  at  their  feet,  though  sickness  was  raging  in  their  hospitals, 
and  hunger  was  wasting  away  their  kindred,  they  swore  to  re- 
sist for  two  weeks  longer.  So  they  could  but  save  Vienna, 
their  fatherland,  and  their  emperor,  they  were  willing  to  en- 
dure their  sufferings  to  the  bitter  end.  The  Turks  pressed 
closer,  but  every  foot  of  ground  cost  them  thousands  of  men  ; 


THE  EE-ENFORCEMENTS.  233 

and  their  advance  was  disputed  by  heroes  whose  bodies  were 
weakened  with  fasting  and  sickness.  Not  a  morsel  of  bread 
or  of  fresh  meat  was  to  be  seen  ;  for  a  while  a  cat  was  esteemed 
a  great  delicacy  ;  and,  finally,  when  the  rats  were  exhausted, 
the  poor,  famished  Viennese  were  glad  to  eat  mice. 

Meanwhile  Kara  Mustapha  went  about  in  his  litter,  calling 
upon  his  men  to  exterminate  these  obstinate  starvelings,  be- 
stowing rewards  upon  those  who  had  distuiguished  themselves, 
and  beheading  with  his  own  cimeter  such  as  displeased  or  of- 
fended him.  After  each  one  of  these  visits  of  the  commander 
to  his  trenches,  the  Tuiks  made  a  fresh  assault  on  the  city. 
Had  they  made  a  general  attack,  the  besieged  were  lost ;  for 
there  were  within  the  walls  of  Vienna  but  four  thousand  men 
capable  of  bearing  arms,  and  these  were  so  exhausted  by  hun- 
ger, that  they  might  easily  have  been  overpowered.  No 
amount  of  heroism  could  supply  the  want  of  bodily  strength  ; 
and  at  last  Count  von  Starhemberg  himself  was  forced  to  ac- 
knowledge that  they  must  ere  long  capitulate. 

Every  night  from  the  towers  of  St.  Stephen's  signal-rockets 
pi-oclaimed  to  heaven  and  earth  the  distress  and  despair  of  the 
people  of  Vienna  ;  while  the  burning  eyes  of  the  brave  com- 
mander were  strained  to  see  a  responsive  light,  and  his  eai-s  in- 
tent to  listen  for  the  answering  boom  of  the  cannon  that  was 
to  have  announced  approaching  succor.  One  week  of  the 
two  had  painfully  ebbed  away  ;  in  eight  days  more  Vienna 
would  be  sacked,  and  the  Crescent  would  replace  the  Cross  I 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE    RE-ENFORCEMENTS. 


On  this  same  8th  of  September— so  fraught  with  discour- 
agement to  the  sufiFering  inhabitants  of  Vienna— the  Duke  of 
Lorraine  held  a  council  of  war  in  his  tent  with  his  allies.  The 
King  of  Poland  was  there,  burning  with  ardor  to  rescue  the 
capital  of  Austria ;  the  Elector  of  Bavaria  had  arrived  with 
heavy  re-enforeements,  which,  added  to  the  troops  furnished 


234:  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

by  Saxony,  Swabia,  and  Franconia,  swelled  the  army  to  eighty- 
four  thousand  men.  Other  volunteers  from  various  parts  of 
Germany  had  joined  the  standard  of  Austria,  and  all  were 
eager  to  uphold  the  cause  of  Christendom  against  the  unbe- 
lieving infidel. 

For  three  days  the  Polish  troops  had  been  occupied  build- 
ing a  pontoon  bridge,  upon  which,  on  the  8tli  day  of  Septem^ 
ber,  the  allied  forces  began  to  cross  the  Danube. 

The  first  to  cross  were  the  King  of  Poland  and  the  Duke  of 
Lorraine.  No  sooner  had  they  gained  the  opposite  bank  than 
the  army  broke  out  into  one  universal  shout  of  joy. 

John  Sobiesky's  fine  face  was  beaming  with  exultation. 
With  a  triumphant  smile  he  turned  to  the  duke,  who,  with 
his  usual  serious  expression  of  countenance,  was  watching  the 
troops  while  they  came  across. 

''  The  Turks  are  lost ! "  said  Sobiesky. 

"  They  were  lost  from  the  moment  your  majesty  came  to 
our  rescue,"  was  the  courteous  reply.  "From  the  moment 
that  you  assumed  the  chief  command,  I  felt  certain  of  suc- 
cess." 

"  My  dear  duke,"  said  the  king,  warmly,  "  I  am  not  so  daz- 
zled by  your  generous  praise  as  not  to  know  which  of  us  is 
the  greater  general  of  the  two.  If  I  have  accepted  your 
highnesses  gracious  relinquishment  of  the  chief  command  to 
me,  I  shall  take  good  care  not  to  exercise  it  without  advice 
from  yourself.  But  I  am  in  no  trouble  now  as  to  the  issue  of 
our  contest  with  the  Turks.  They  are  already  beaten.  A  gen- 
eral who,  at  the  head  of  two  hundred  thousand  men,  suffers 
us  to  construct  this  bridge  within  five  leagues  of  his  camp,  is  a 
man  of  no  ability.     He  is  as  good  as  beaten."  * 

"  Provided  we  reach  Vienna  before  our  poor  hungry  coun- 
trymen will  have  been  forced  to  surrender." 

The  king's  eyes  flashed.  "  Ay,  ay,  indeed  ! "  exclaimed  he, 
eagerly  ;  "  every  thing  depends  upon  that.  The  main  ques- 
tion is,  to  march  to  Vienna  as  quick  as  possible." 

"  There  are  two  roads  to  Vienna,"  replied  the  duke. 

The  king  nodded  affirmatively.      "  Yes ;  the  road  lying 

*  John  Sobiesky's  own  words.— See  Kausler,  "  Prince  Eugene  of  Savoy," 
vol.  i.,  p.  22. 


THE  RE-ENFORCEMENTS.  235 

through  the  valley  of  the  Danube  is  level ;  the  one  that  leads 
to  Vienna  by  the  Kahlenberg  is  steep  and  toilsome." 

"  But  much  shorter,"  added  the  duke. 

"Let  us  then  select  the  route  over  the  Kahlenberg,"  an- 
swered the  king.  "  Your  highness  understands  giving  sound 
advice  under  the  garb  of  a  passing  observation." 

Their  conversation  was  just  then  interrupted  by  the  ap- 
pearance of  two  young  horsemen,  who  bowed  respectfully  as 
they  rode  by.  One  wore  the  rich  and  becoming  uniform  of 
the  Polish  lancers — this  was  the  crown  prince  of  Poland  ;  the 
other,  more  simply  attired,  was  Prince  Eugene  of  Savoy — the 
youngest  colonel  in  the  Austrian  service. 

At  a  signal  from  the  King  of  Poland,  the  youths  reined  in 
their  horses. 

"  My  son,"  said  the  king,  touching  the  Polish  prince  on  the 
shoulder,  "  let  me  congratulate  you  that  you  are  about  to  en- 
gage the  enemy  under  the  command  of  one  of  the  most  dis- 
tinguished generals  of  the  age." 

The  duke  shook  his  head,  and  smilingly  addressed  Eugene  : 
*'  Prince  of  Savoy,"  said  he,  "  you  see  before  you  a  king  whose 
least  glory  is  his  crown.  Let  him  be  your  model,  and  when 
you  confront  the  enemy  let  the  thought  of  John  Sobiesky's 
fame  urge  you  to  deeds  of  prowess." 

"Your  highness,"  replied  Eugene,  "not  only  when  I  con- 
front the  enemy,  but  every  day  and  every  hour  of  my  life, 
will  I  look  back  with  emotion  to  the  time  when  I  beheld  the 
two  most  eminent  commanders  of  the  age  contemplating  each 
other's  greatness  without  envy,  and  accepting  each  other's  sug- 
gestions without  cavil ;  and  I  trust  tliat,  from  the  sight,  I  may 
receive  inspiration  as  far  as  lies  within  my  capacity,  to  emu- 
late their  moral  as  well  as  their  military  worth." 

"You  will  ere  long  have  the  opportunity  of  showing  us 
how  proximity  to  John  Sobiesky  inspires  men  to  valor."  re- 
plied the  duke.  "  We  are  about  to  march  to  Vienna.  Which 
road  would  you  take,  if  you  had  to  choose  for  the  army  ?" 

Eugene's  large  black  eyes  wandered  over  the  horizon  until 
they  rested  on  the  summit  of  Kahlenberg.  "  If  we  gain  those 
heights,  we  overlook  not  only  our  friends,  but  the  entire  camp 
of  the  enemy." 


236  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

"  Well  answered,"  said  John  Sobiesky.  "  You  are  a  mili- 
tary man  by  intuition,  I  see,  and  are  destined  to  make  a  fig- 
ure in  the  world.  You  are  small  in  person,  but  would  be 
great  in  council.  Men  of  your  size  and  build  are  more  fre- 
quently gifted  with  military  genius  than  those  of  lofty  stature, 
I  suppose,"  continued  he,  smiling,  "  that  it  is  because  the  brain 
which  reasons,  and  the  heart  that  feels,  lie  close  together,  and 
so  can  help  each  other.  But,"  said  he,  interrupting  himself, 
"  here  comes  the  Elector  Max  Emmanuel.  Allow  me  to  bid 
him  welcome." 

The  Duke  of  Lorraine  followed  him  with  his  eyes,  as,  in 
company  with  the  crown  prince,  the  king  rode  forward  to  meet 
the  handsome  Prince  of  Bavaria. 

"  The  Poles  did  well,"  said  he  to  himself,  "  to  prefer  John 
Sobiesky  to  me  ;  and,  if  I  had  known  him  personally,  never 
would  I  have  been  his  competitor  for  a  throne.  He  is  better 
fitted  to  reign  and  govern  than  I." 

''  Has  your  highness  any  commands  for  me  ? "  asked  Eu- 
gene. 

"  Yes,  my  dear  young  friend,"  replied  the  duke,  solemnly. 
"  We  draw  near  to  Vienna.  Avenge  your  brother's  death,  but 
prize  and  cherish  your  own  life.  Do  not  wantonly  expose 
your  person,  nor  seek  for  danger  ;  for  he  alone  is  a  hero  whose 
valor  is  restrained  by  prudence.  I  shall  place  you,  neverthe- 
less, where  danger  is  imminent,  and  glory  to  be  earned ;  so 
that,  when  I  recommend  you  for  promotion  to  the  emperor, 
the  world  may  not  say  that  you  owe  your  advancement  to 
favor." 

"  Your  highness's  advice  shall  be  followed  to  the  letter," 
replied  Eugene,  earnestly.  "I  will  despise  danger,  that  I  may 
avenge  my  brother  ;  yet  will  I  guard  my  life,  that  I  may  be 
the  protector  of  his  wife  and  children.  But  nothing  will  more 
inspire  rae  to  heroic  deeds  than  the  friendship  which  you  so 
condescendingly  evince  for  me.  May  God  bless  and  reward 
you  for  your  sympathy  with  my  suflPering  heart ! " 

At  the  end  of  three  days,  the  army  gained  the  heights  of 
the  Kahlenberg.  The  men,  tired  and  sleepy,  dispersed,  and 
threw  themselves  down  to  rest  under  the  trees ;  their  com- 
manders rode  farther  to  the  mountain's  brow,  and  there,  be* 


THE  RE-ENFORCEMENTS.  237 

aeath  the  fiery  rays  of  the  setting  sun,  lay  prisoned  Vienna 
and  her  Turkish  jailers.  But  above  was  a  cloud  of  smoko  and 
dust,  through  which  ever  and  anon  leaped  columns  of  fire, 
while  the  air  was  heavy  with  reverberation  of  cannon.  The 
Turks  were  storming  the  city. 

The  besieged,  mindful  of  their  promise,  were  defending 
themselves  with  desperation.  With  imperturbable  calm. 
Count  von  Starhemberg  headed  every  sortie,  and  his  quick 
eye  perceived  every  little  advantage  that  could  be  taken  ; 
while  his  wise  precautions  saved  many  a  life,  and  warded  off 
many  a  peril.  His  redoubts  were  no  sooner  damaged  than  re- 
paired ;  trench  after  trench  was  dug  ;  street  by  street  defended 
with  palisades,  improvised  of  rods  and  beams. 

As  night  came  on,  the  heavy  firing  of  the  Turks  ceased,  and 
a  dead  stillness  followed  the  terrible  boom  of  cannon.  The 
streets  were  ploughed  with  balls,  the  ashes  of  many  a  con- 
sumed building  were  scattered  about  by  the  wind,  while  here 
and  there  a  fitful  blaze  was  seen  issuing  from  a  shapeless  mass 
that  once  had  been  the  stately  home  of  some  proud  Austrian 
noble.  Pale,  ghastly  figures  wandered  among  the  ruins, 
searching  for  food,  which,  alas  !  they  rarely  found.  But 
amid  this  '*  abomination  of  desolation,"  they  still  lifted  their 
eyes  to  heaven  for  help,  and  still  clung  to  hope  of  rescue. 

CJount  Starhemberg,  as  usual,  had  ascended  the  tower  of 
fit.  Stephen's ;  while  in  the  city  below  every  form  was  pros- 
trate in  prayer.  With  his  own  hand  he  fired  the  nightly 
rocket,  and  watched  its  myriads  of  stars  as  they  shot  heaven- 
ward, illumined  the  darkness,  and  then  fell  back  into  nothing- 
ness. His  heart  beat  painfully,  as  the  last  scintillations  went 
out,  and  left  but  the  pall  of  night  behind.  But  he  gazed  on 
in  silence,  and  in  anguish  unutterable.  Suddenly  he  unclasped 
his  rigid  hands,  for  oh  I  joy  1  joy  !  there  was  light  on  the 
summit  of  the  Kahlenberg  ;  the  signal  darts  up  into  the  sky, 
and  irom  Herman's  peak  the  cannon  proclaims  that  help  is 
nigh  I 

One  cry  of  rapture  burst  from  the  lips  of  all  who  stood 
around  the  commander ;  the  warder  grasped  his  speaking- 
trumpet,  and  cried  out  to  the  crowd  below,  "  The  signal  is  an- 
swered I " 


238  PRINCE  EUGENE   AND   HIS  TIMES. 

The  sound  was  caught  up  by  the  eager  multitude,  the 
blessed  tidings  were  borne  from  street  to  street,  and  the  people 
with  one  accord  knelt  down  and  thanked  God.  Noble  and 
simple,  aged  and  young,  all  hastened  to  St.  Stephen's.  Men 
clasped  hands  ;  and  strangers  that  had  never  met  before,  em- 
braced one  another  like  friends  and  kinsmen.  Hope  had  soft- 
ened all  hearts,  joy's  electric  touch  had  made  a  thousand  inter- 
ests one  :  men  were  no  longer  segregate,  their  lives  were 
blended  into  one  great  emotion. 

Count  von  Starhemberg  was  so  overcome,  that  for  some 
moments  his  tongue  refused  him  utterance.  When  he  spoke, 
his  voice,  so  accustomed  to  command,  trembled  and  grew  soft 
— soft  and  gentle  as  that  of  a  young  maiden. 

"  Will  some  one  fetch  me  pen  and  paper  ? "  said  he.  And 
when  a  portfolio  was  brought  for  him  to  write  upon,  he 
could  scarcely  command  his  hand  while  it  traced  these  few 
words : 

"  Lose  no  time ;  in  Heaven's  name,  be  quick,  or  we  are 
lost ! " 

"  Who  will  venture  to  swim  across  the  Danube,  and  deliver 
this  paper  to  the  Duke  of  Lorraine  ? "  added  he. 

Three  young  men  volunteered  at  once.  Count  von  Star- 
hemberg chose  the  one  that  seemed  the  strongest,  and  gave  it 
to  him. 

"  Promise  me  that  you  will  deliver  it  or  die  ! " 

'"  I  promise,"  was  the  reply  of  the  young  man,  who,  without 
tarrying  another  moment,  sprang  down  the  steps  and  disap* 
peared. 

In  a  few  hours,  another  rocket  from  the  mountain-top  an- 
nounced the  safe  arrival  of  the  messenger,  and  promised 
speedy  relief. 

Yes,  deliverance  was  at  hand.  At  gray  dawn,  the  army 
were  ready  to  march,  and  the  Kinsr  of  Poland,  the  Duke  of 
Lorraine,  and  Louis  of  Baden  were  in  the  saddle.  When  all 
were  assembled,  John  Sobiesky  dismounted,  and  kneeling  be- 
fore the  altar  of  Leopold's  chapel,  addressed  a  prayer  to  Heav- 
en for  a  blessing  on  the  approaching  struggle.  In  his  priestly 
robes,  within  the  chancel,  stood  Marcus  Avianus.  the  inspired 
Capuchin  whom  the  pope  had  sent  to  Germany  to  preach 


THE  RE-ENFORCEMENTS.  239 

this  new  crusade.  His  burning  words  bad  done  as  much  for 
the  cause  of  Christianity  as  tbe  stalwart  ai'uis  of  Austria's  best 
warriors  ;  and  now,  as  he  raised  his  hands  on  high,  and  eighty 
thousand  men  knelt  to  receive  his  blessing,  their  hearts 
thix)bbed  with  joy,  for  they  felt  that  the  God  of  battles  would 
be  with  them  that  day. 

The  rites  done,  John  Sobiesky  bestowed  the  honor  of 
knighthood  upon  his  son, ''  thereby  commemorating  the  proud- 
est day  of  their  lives  ; "  and  at  the  conclusion  of  the  ceremony, 
he  addressed  the  Polish  army,  exhorting  them  to  fight  as  be- 
came a  Christian  host  in  a  cause  "  where  death  was  not  only 
the  path  to  glory,  but  the  way  to  heaven." 

"I  have  but  one  command  to  give  my  men,"  said  he, 
in  conclusion.  "Let  them  follow  their  king,  and  wherever 
he  is  to  be  seen,  there  let  them  know  that  the  battle  rages 
fiercest." 

A  tumultuous  shout  was  the  answer  to  this  exhortation. 
It  gathered  strength  as  it  passed  along  the  ranks,  until  it  awoke 
a  thousand  echoes  from  the  mountain-tops  around  ;  while  the 
rays  of  the  sun,  like  a  consecrating  fii*e,  glistened  from  the  point 
of  every  bayonet,  and  flashed  from  the  blade  of  every  waving 
sword. 

The  cheers  of  the  Christians  were  borne  on  the  summer  air, 
until  the  sound  reached  the  very  camp  of  the  Turks.  It  sent 
consternation  to  the  heart  of  Blara  Mustapha,  as  he  lay  smok- 
ing his  hookah  under  a  tent  of  silk  and  vel  vet.  For  sixty  days 
he  had  besieged  Vienna  with  his  hundreds  of  thousands. 
Against  its  obstinate  defenders  warfare  had  failed ;  and  now 
that  hunger  was  about  to  do  what  he  had  vainly  tried — to  par- 
alyze their  valor,  here  came  succor,  to  render  his  victory  doubt- 
ful. For  he  well  knew  that  the  Christians  were  full  of  ardor, 
while  his  Turks  were  tired  of  fighting.  That  he  might  excite 
their  thirst  for  blood,  he  assembled  all  his  prisoners,  men,  wom- 
en, and  children,  together,  and,  within  view  of  his  army,  or- 
dered them  all  to  be  massacred.  The  work  of  death  began, 
and  the  expiring  cries  of  his  victims  were  the  Paynini's  answer 
to  the  shouts  of  the  Christians,  that  were  raising  their  hearta 
to  God. 

That  fearful  wail  was  heard,  too,  by  the  beleaguered  men 


240  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  UIS  TIMES. 

of  Vienna  ;  and  the  thought  of  their  butchered  kindred  gave 
strength  to  their  famished  bodies.  They  hungered  no  longer 
for  food  I  they  thirsted  for  blood. 

And  now  the  bells,  which  for  sixty  days  had  been  silent, 
rang  out  their  alarum,  calling  all  to  the  last  great  struggle. 
The  sick  raised  their  heads,  and  felt  the  glow  of  health  thrill- 
ing through  their  fevered  veins  ;  the  aged  worked  like  youths 
—the  youths  like  demi-gods.  And  full  of  hope,  full  of  valor, 
the  brave  citizens  of  Vienna  awaited  the  coming  of  their  liber- 
ators. 

The  main  body  of  the  allied  army  was  commanded  by  the 
Electors  of  Bavaria  and  of  Saxony  ;  the  right  wing,  by  John 
Sobiesky  ;  the  left,  by  the  Duke  of  Lorraine  and  Louis  of  Ba- 
den. The  plan  of  the  attack  had  been  made  according  to  the 
suggestions  of  the  King  of  Poland. 

At  the  side  of  Louis  of  Baden  rode  Eugene  of  Savoy,  his 
sorrows  all  forgotten  in  the  excitement  of  the  occasion.  His 
countenance  beamed  with  animation,  his  eyes  darted  fire.  His 
black  war-horse,  too,  partook  of  his  enthusiasm  :  he  pranced^ 
leaped  into  the  air,  and  neighed  as  if  in  defiance  of  the  barbs 
that  were  to  bear  his  enemies  into  battle  that  morning. 

"  My  dear  cousin,"  said  Eugene  to  Louis,  "  I  implore  you  let 
me  go  early  into  action.  Give  me  something  to  do  as  soon  as 
we  are  in  sight  of  the  enemy,  and  thereby  prove  me  your 
love." 

"  You  shall  have  your  wish,  Eugene.  Your  division  is  to 
open  the  engagement.  As  soon  as  you  hear  the  discharge  of 
the  cannon  from  the  heights  of  the  Kahlenberg,  you  ad- 
vance." 

With  a  joyful  wave  of  the  hand,  Eugene  sprang  forward, 
and  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  his  dragoons,  where,  rigid  as 
a  statue,  he  stood  with  his  eyes  raised  to  the  summit  of  the 
Kahlenberg. 

The  first  shot  rolled  like  thunder  through  the  valley 
gorges.  The  men  grasped  their  muskets,  the  horses  pawed 
the  ground.  The  second,  the  third,  followed,  and  every 
eye  glistened,  and  every  heart  throbbed.     The  fourth — the 

'*  En  avant ! "  cried  Eugene ;  and  the  dragoons  galloped 


THE  RE-ENFORCEMENTS.  241 

forward.  They  were  to  drive  the  enemy  from  the  valley  of 
the  Nussberg,  and  force  the  pass  of  Heiligenstadt.  But  the 
Turks  disputed  every  inch  of  the  ground,  making  hreastworks 
of  every  hillock,  trenches  of  every  hollow.  They  defended 
the  way  with  such  desperation  that  the  Austrian  cavalry  began 
to  waver. 

An  exclamation  of  fury  was  heard  from  the  lips  of  Eugene. 
"Victory  or  death  I"  cried  he;  and  with  these  words  the 
intrepid  youth  struck  spurs  into  his  horse,  and  sprang  through 
the  pass  ;  his  sabre,  flashing  like  lightning  through  the  air,  as 
right  and  left  it  dealt  destruction  to  the  Janizaries  that  dis- 
puted his  passage. 

Amazed  at  such  prowess,  the  dragoons  gave  one  simultane- 
ous cheer,  and  leaped  into  the  enemy's  midst.  From  that  mo- 
ment they  moved  on  like  a  granite  wall ;  onward  in  the  track 
of  their  gallant  commander,  all  peril  disregarding,  they  fought 
their  way,  until,  inspired  by  his  heroism,  encouraged  by  the 
soul-stirring  tones  of  his  blithe  young  voice,  they  won  the  pass^ 
and  forced  the  enemy  back. 

Meanwhile  the  imperial  and  Saxon  forces  had  advanced 
from  the  Kahlenberg,  in  one  dense  column,  the  sight  of  which 
had  sorely  shaken  the  confidence  of  Kara  Mustapha  in  his 
power  to  resist  them. 

On  swept  the  mighty  mass,  and  in  a  few  moments  the  deep 
thunder  of  the  cannon  reverberated  along  the  mountain 
gorges  ;  the  clashing  of  swords  and  the  rattling  of  musketry 
mingled  with  the  cries  of  the  wounded,  and  the  groans  of  the 
dying ;  while  all  above  was  fire  and  smoke.  The  passes  were 
reddened  with  blood,  which  drop  by  drop  flowed  down  their 
declivities,  until  it  met  another  life  destroying  current  on  its 
way  ;  and  both  glided  onward  to  the  Danube,  empurpling  its 
waters  with  the  mingled  gore  of  Christian  and  Paynim. 

The  battle  raged,  without  any  decisive  advantage,  until 
long  after  noon.  At  four  o'clock,  however,  the  Ulans  of  the 
King  of  Poland  were  about  to  be  overpowered  by  superior 
numbers,  when  re-enforcement  came  in  the  form  of  a  charge 
on  the  right  wing  of  the  Turks,  by  the  troops  under  Charles 
of  Lorraine.  Those  flying  squadrons,  beneath  whose  hor8es» 
hoofs  the  ground  is  trembling  as  if  upheaved  by  an  earth* 


242  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

quake,  are  headed  by  Eugene — the  indomitable  Eugene.  On 
his  foam -flecked  steed,  with  a  sword  in  his  hand  that  is  gory  to 
the  hilt,  comes  the  "  little  abbe,"  who  was  too  much  of  a  weak- 
ling to  obtain  a  commission  in  the  army  of  the  King  of  France. 
If  his  mother  could  see  him  now,  she  would  confess  that  he 
was  no  fit  aspirant  for  a  scarlet  hat. 

Side  by  side  rode  Eugene  and  Louis  of  Baden,  both  heading 
that  bloody  chase.  Over  heaps  of  corpses,  over  struggling 
horses,  falling  timbers,  through  smoke  and  fire,  they  dashed 
toward  the  gates  of  Vienna.  Count  Starhemberg  was  there 
with  his  handful  of  braves,  making  gallant  resistance  to  the 
Janizaries.  But  for  the  mad  charge  of  Eugene,  the  little  garri- 
son would  soon  have  been  cut  to  pieces.  But  the  attack  on 
their  rear  surprised  the  Janizaries  ;  they  fell  back,  only  to  be 
confronted  by  the  Duke  of  Lorraine,  and,  believing  resistance 
to  be  useless,  they  fled. 

The  King  of  Poland  meanwhile  was  within  the  gates  en- 
gaged in  a  hand-to-hand  fight  with  the  enemy  in  the  streets. 
He  was  not  left  long  to  struggle  without  help.  Once  more 
Eugene  and  his  cavalry  came  to  the  rescue  ;  and  now  the  Turk- 
ish legions  are  flying  for  their  lives,  while  the  Christians  are 
shouting  for  joy  and  victory  I 

Kara  Mustapha,  who  was  to  have  made  his  seat  of  empire 
at  Vienna,  has  suddenly  become  a  panic-stricken  adventurer. 
With  that  singular  absence  of  fortitude  which  so  often  distin- 
guishes tyrants  in  adversity,  he  fell  to  weeping  like  a  child, 
and  went  whining  for  protection  to  the  Khan  of  Tartary. 

"  Save  me,  save  me  !  "  was  his  cowardly  cry. 

The  khan  shook  his  head.  "  We  know  the  King  of  Poland 
too  well,"  said  he.     "  Nobody  can  withstand  him." 

And  from  this  moment  nothing  was  thought  of,  in  the 
Turkish  camp,  but  flight.  Kara  Mustapha's  war-horse,  with 
its  housings  of  purple  velvet  worked  in  pearls,  was  too  heavy 
to  bear  him  away  from  Vienna  ;  he  mounted  a  fleet-footed 
Arabian,  and  sped  away  without  thought  of  the  treasures  he 
was  leaving  behind.  His  costly  tent,  his  girdles  of  diamonds, 
his  cimeters  inlaid  with  rubies  and  sapphires,  his  six  hundred 
sacks  of  piastres,  all  fell  into  the  hands  of  John  Sobiesky. 

While  joy  and  jubilee  prevailed  throughout  the  streets  of 


THE  RE-ENFORCEMEXTS.  243 

Vienna,  Eugene  of  Savoy  was  on  his  way  to  the  dwelling  of 
his  widowed  sister  :  but,  while  he  sorrowed  with  Urania  and 
her  orphans,  his  name  was  being  borne  upon  the  trumpet-blast 
of  fame,  as  chief  among  the  heroes  that  rescued  Vienna  from 
the  in&del. 


BOOK  lY, 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  FALL  OF  BUDA. 

As  a  signal  that  the  conference  was  at  an  end,  the  Emperor 
Leopold  rose  from  his  ai'm-chair.  The  president  and  vice- 
president  followed  his  example,  and  the  other  members  of  the 
council  bowed  and  retired.  The  Margrave  of  Baden  and 
Count  von  Starhemberg  remained  standing  by  the  green  table, 
while  the  emperor,  who  had  crossed  the  room,  now  stood  va- 
cantly staring  out  of  a  window,  drumming  with  his  fingers  on 
one  of  the  panes. 

His  two  counsellors  were  perfectly  au  fait  to  the  import 
of  this  drumming  ;  it  meant  that  the  emperor's  thoughts  were 
with  his  army,  which  was  still  in  the  field,  although  three 
years  had  gone  by  since  the  siege  of  Vienna.  During  this 
protracted  struggle  both  parties  had  fought  bravely,  but  neither 
one  had  as  yet  prevailed  against  the  other.  In  1684  the  Aiis- 
trians  had  gained  a  brilliant  victory  over  the  allied  enemy  ; 
but,  in  the  course  of  the  same  year,  the  Turks,  by  their  obsti- 
nate valor,  had  forced  the  Duke  of  Lorraine  to  abandon  the 
siege  of  Buda,  which,  since  then,  had  remained  in  their  pos- 
session, and  gave  them  entire  control  of  Hungary. 

The  emperor's  thoughts,  then,  were  at  Buda,  while  his  fin- 
gers still  drummed  on  the  window-pane.  At  last  he  turned 
around. 

"  Any  news  from  the  army  ? "  asked  he,  hastily. 

"  None,  your  majesty,"  replied  the  margrave.  "  Since  the 
news  of  the  junction  of  the  Duke  of  Lorraine's  forces  with 
those  of  Prince  Louis  of  Baden  and  Max  Emmanuel,  nothing 
further  has  been  heard  as  to  the  progress  of  the  siege." 

(244) 


THE  FALL  OF  BUDA.  245 

"  And  that,  of  course,  signifies  that  there  is  nothing  good 
to  be  told,"  added  Von  Starhemberg.  "  If  the  Duke  of  Lor- 
raine had  met  with  any  success,  he  would  not  have  failed  to 
send  a  courier  with  the  tidings." 

"  Unhappily,  since  he  has  had  command  of  the  army,  he 
has  had  many  more  reverses  to  communicate  than  victories," 
replied  the  margrave,  with  a  sigh. 

"You  forget  his  brilliant  victory  at  Gran  last  year,"  re- 
turned the  emperor.  "  Away  with  your  petty  ill-wiU  toward 
the  duke  !  Forget  your  personal  grievances  in  admiration  of 
his  heroism." 

**  Sire,"  replied  the  margrave,  somewhat  impetuously,  *'  there 
are  personal  grievances  which  will  not  allow  themselves  to  be 
forgotten.  The  Duke  of  Lorraine,  in  his  dispatches,  has  not 
only  accused  me  of  neglect  in  the  provisioning  and  arming  of 
his  troops,  but  has  also  declared  me  unqualified  for  ray  posi- 
tion, and  has  recommended  another  man  as  minister  of  war." 

"  And  yet  you  retain  your  position,"  replied  the  emperor  ; 
*'  so  that  neither  one  of  you  has  influence  enough  with  me  to 
injure  the  other.  I  have  great  confidence,  nevertheless,  in  the 
judgment  of  my  brother-in-law  ;  and,  if  occasionally  he  is  of 
opinion  that  battles  are  not  to  be  planned  on  the  green  table  of 
a  council-chamber,  but  in  the  field  by  the  man,  who  is  to  fight 
them— not  in  theoruK  but  in  praxi8—l  am  inclined  to  think 
that  he  is  right." 

'*  One  thing  I  hope  that  your  majesty  will  do  me  the  justice 
to  remember,"  answered  Von  Starhemberg,  in  a  tone  of  vexa- 
tion. "  It  is  this  :  the  war  department,  at  my  suggestion,  ad- 
vised that  Buda  should  not  be  assaulted,  but  that  the  passes 
lying  behind  the  city  should  be  seized,  Stuhlweissemberg  be- 
sieged, and  Buda,  by  this  means,  cut  off  from  all  intercpurse 
with  Turkey.  Thus  it  would  have  fallen  without  bloodshed  ; 
whereas  we  have  nothing  to  expect,  as  the  result  of  a  second 
direct  attack,  but  the  news  of  a  second  repulse." 

"  Should  the  Duke  of  Lorraine  be  forced  to  raise  the  siege 
a  second  time,  I  hope  that  the  war  department  will  remember 
that  it  was  I,  and  not  my  oommander-in-chicf,  who  rejected 
their  advice.  So  that,  if  we  should  be  unfortunate,  mine  be 
the  blame  of  the  disaster,  for  I  ordered  the  attack." 


246  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

At  this  moment  the  door  of  the  council-chamber  was  opened 
with  some  precipitation,  and  the  chamberlain  of  the  day  ap- 
peared on  the  threshold. 

"What  do  you  come  to  announce  ?  "  asked  Leopold. 

"Sire,  a  bearer  of  dispatches  from  his  highness  of  Lor- 
raine." 

"Ah,  lupus  in  fdbula,''^  said  the  emperor,  with  a  smile. 
"Well— let  in  the  lupus."" 

"Your  majesty,"  interrupted  the  Margrave  of  Baden, 
"  would  it  not  be  better  for  me  to  receive  the  dispatches,  and 
communicate  their  contents  to  you  ?  The  news  of  another 
disaster  will  be  a  great  blow  :  your  mind  should  be  prepared 
to  receive  it." 

"  I  am  prepared  for  whatever  it  may  please  God  to  assign," 
replied  Leopold,  reverently.  "  If  the  news  be  bad,  it  is  my 
duty  to  confront  it  like  a  man  ;  if  good,  let  me  taste  it  pure, 
as  it  comes  from  the  lips  of  the  messenger.     Let  him  enter  !  " 

The  chamberlain  stepped  back,  made  a  sign  to  the  page  in 
the  anteroom,  and  both  sides  of  the  door  were  flung  open. 

"  Our  bearer  is  a  person  of  distinction,"  said  Leopold  to 
himself.  "  Both  doors  are  opened  for  a  reigning  prince,  a 
grandee  of  Spain,  or — " 

Just  then  the  bearer  of  dispatches  appeared — a  small,  slight 
person,  in  a  simple  uniform,  but  his  breast  well  covered  with 
orders,  both  Austrian  and  Spanish. 

"  Prince  Eugene  of  Savoy  ! "  exclaimed  Leopold,  with  evi- 
dent pleasure.     And  he  made  several  steps  toward  the  prince. 

"  Prince  Eugene  of  Savoy,"  muttered  the  margrave,  with 
an  ugly  frown  ;  for  well  he  knew  that  such  an  envoy  would 
never  have  been  chosen  to  be  the  bearer  of  evil  tidings. 

Meanwhile  Eugene  rapidly  crossed  the  room,  and  knelt 
before  the  emperor. 

"  You  forget,"  said  Leopold,  raising  him,  "  that  a  knight  of 
the  Golden  Fleece  is  not  obliged  to  conform  to  the  court  cus- 
tom of  kneeling.  His  order  kneel  before  the  Almighty  alone. 
Moreover,  as  grandee  of  Spain,  your  highness  has  a  right  to 
appear  with  covered  head." 

"  Sire,  I  came  hither  neither  as  a  grandee  nor  a  knight.  I 
came  as  the  squire  of  my  noble  lord,  the  Duke  af  Lorraine, 


THE  FALL  OF  BUDA.  247 

and  as  the  soldier  and  subject  of  my  emperor.    Let  me,  then, 
greet  my  sovereign  as  my  heart  dictates." 

With  these  woi*ds  Eugene  knelt  again. 

"Now,"  said  Leopold,  "rise,  loyal  subject,  and  satisfy  my 
impatience.     Tell  me,  in  one  word,  has  Buda  fallen  ? " 

"  Yes,  sire,"  was  the  exulting  reply. 

The  emperor  raised  his  grateful  eyes  to  heaven,  while  his 
two  councilloi's  exchanged  glances  of  dissatisfaction.  Leopold 
saw  this,  and  addressed  himself  to  both. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  he,  "  pray  remember  that  you  were  op- 
posed to  the  siege  of  Buda,  and  that  it  was  undertaken  at  the 
request  of  the  Duke  of  Lorraine." 

"  Your  majesty  told  us  that  you  had  commanded  it  your- 
self," answered  the  marg^ve.  "  The  duke,  then,  has  merely 
carried  out  orders  !  " 

"  Orders  given  because  of  his  request.  He  proved  to  me 
that  Buda  could  be  taken  ;  and,  when  I  commanded  this  sec- 
ond attempt  to  reduce  it,  I  merely  yielded  to  his  better  judg- 
ment. But  let  us  change  the  subject.  — You  are  most  welcome," 
continued  he,  to  Prince  Eugene.  "  And  now  let  us  hear  the 
details  of  your  glad  tidings." 

"  Sire,  the  siege  of  Buda  is  an  epic,  worthy  of  the  pen  of  a 
Homer.  None  but  a  great  poet  can  do  justice  to  the  deeds  of 
valor  of  the  Duke  of  Lorraine." 

**  Try  you,  nevertheless,"  replied  Leopold.  "  But  hold  !  It 
were  selfish  to  enjoy  your  narrative  alone.  The  empress  and 
the  court  shall  partake  of  our  happiness  to  day.  Count  vor 
Starhemberg,  oblige  me  by  opening  the  door,  and  recalling 
the  chamberlain." 

The  count  reluctantly  obeyed,  and  the  chamberlain  reap- 
peared. 

"You  will  announce  to  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  in  wait 
ing,  that  I  request  the  presence  of  the  court.  I  myself  will 
conduct  the  empress  hither."  Then,  with  a  wave  of  his  hand 
to  Prince  Eugene,  he  added,  "Await  our  return." 

Not  long  after,  the  empress,  conducted  by  her  imperial  hun- 
band,  entered  the  room  and  took  her  seat.    The  ladies  and 
gentlemen  in  waiting  stood  behind,  and  the  margrave  and 
Count  von  Starhemberg  were  on  either  side  of  the  emperor. 
17 


248  PRINCE   EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

*'  And  now,  Prince  Eugene  of  Savoy,"  cried  Leopold,  "  let 
us  hear  the  details  of  the  fall  of  Buda." 

All  eyes  were  turned  upon  Eugene,  who,  without  boldness 
or  bashfulness,  calmly  surveyed  the  brilliant  assembly  before 
him.  In  his  plain,  dark  uniform,  his  black  hair  worn  natu- 
rally and  without  powder,  he  presented  a  striking  contrast  to 
the  courtiers  in  their  magnificently -embroidered  Spanish 
doublets,  and  huge,  powdered  wigs. 

He  began  his  narrative,  by  alluding  to  the  fact  that  for  one 
hundred  and  twenty  years,  in  spite  of  six  different  attempts  on 
the  part  of  Austria  to  retake  it,  the  ancient  capital  of  Hungary 
had  been  in  the  hands  of  the  Turks.  He  quoted  the  well' 
known  saying  of  John  Sobiesky,  "  Buda  has  drunk  such  tor- 
rents of  Christian  blood,  that  every  handful  of  earth  around 
its  walls  is  red  and  moist  with  gore."  He  made  a  few  brief 
remarks  on  the  subject  of  the  last  unsuccessful  attack,  two 
years  before  ;  and  then,  with  all  the  enthusiasm  of  a  warrior- 
poet,  he  entered  upon  the  narration  of  the  seventh  siege. 

He  spoke  of  the  various  stratagems,  sallies,  and  skirmishes 
that  preceded  the  final  assault.  On  the  18th  of  June  the  city 
was  invested,  and  by  the  end  of  July  the  allied  army  had 
effected  an  entrance,  and  captured  so  many  streets  that  the 
besieged  had  been  compelled  to  retire  within  the  fortress.  At 
the  same  time,  combustibles  were  thrown  into  the  magazine, 
which  exploded  with  fearful  destruction,  and  the  Duke  of 
Lorraine,  compassionating  the  condition  of  the  brave  old  com- 
mander. Pacha  Abdurrahmen,  sent  a  messenger,  advising  him 
to  capitulate.  Abdurrahmen,  for  all  answer,  informed  the 
duke  that  Allah  and  the  Prophet  would  shortly  punish  the 
audacity  of  the  Christians,  and,  by  way  of  anticipating  Divine 
justice,  he  caused  one  hundred  Saxons,  who  had  been  cap- 
tured a  few  days  before,  to  be  hanged  within  view  of  the  be- 
siegers. 

This  vindictive  act  was  the  signal  for  a  new  assault,  and 
the  fortress  was  attacked  on  three  sides.  The  assailants  were 
several  times  repulsed,  for  the  Turks  fought  like  demons. 
Undismayed,  they  stood  upon  the  walls,  pouring  fire  and  shot 
into  the  Christian  ranks  until  the  hair  was  singed  from  their 
heads,  and  their  scorched  clothes  dropped  from  their  bodies. 


THE  FALL  OF  BUDA.  249 

If  the  allies  were  heroic  in  their  attack,  the  Turks  were  not 
less  so  in  their  defence.  Finally  the  women,  too,  were  seen, 
some  carrying  ammunition,  some  bringing  refreshments  to 
the  gunners,  while  others,  singing  wild  strains  of  Turkish  em- 
bateria,  hurled  stones  from  the  walls  upon  the  invading  army. 

More  than  two  thousand  Austrians  had  fallen,  but  they  had 
succeeded  in  establishing  themselves  within  one  of  the  bas- 
tions, and  had  thereby  obtained  possession  of  the  prison-tower. 
The  day  following,  however,  .Abdurrahmen  sprung  a  mine, 
which  killed  one  hundred  of  the  imperial  troops,  and  so  terri- 
fied the  others,  that  they  retired  in  confusion,  and  the  bastion 
remained  in  the  hands  of  the  Turks. 

Once  more  the  Duke  of  Lorraine  offered  terms  to  the  be- 
sieged, which  a  second  time  were  indignantly  refused.  For 
the  grand-vizier  had  arrived  with  re-enforcements,  and  on  a 
plain  just  behind  the  city  of  Buda  his  troops  were  drawn  up 
in  battle  array.  The  besieged  now  commenced  an  attack  upon 
the  besiegers  ;  one  of  their  bombs  burst  almost  at  the  feet  of 
the  Duke  of  Lorraine,  killing  and  wounding  several  of  his 
staff  ;  another  fell  into  a  heap  of  hand-grenades,  which  pro- 
duced a  frightful  conflagration. 

On  the  first  of  September  Abdurrahmen  was  again  sum- 
moned to  surrender.  The  white-haired  hero  presented  two 
documents  to  the  envoys,  one  of  which  was  from  the  high- 
priest  of  the  Prophet  at  Constantinople,  the  other  from  the 
Sultan.  The  first  enjoined  it  upon  the  pacha,  as  a  religious 
duty,  to  defend  Buda  as  the  key  to  the  Ottoman  empire  ;  the 
other  contained  these  few  emphatic  words  :  "  Either  fall  as  a 
martyr  before  the  sword  of  the  invader,  or  die  as  a  traitor  by 
the  blade  of  the  headsman." 

"  You  see,"  added  Abdurrahmen,  calmly,  "  that  no  discre- 
tion is  allowed  me.  I  must  prevail  against  you,  or  fight  until 
I  fall." 

This  decided  the  question  of  capitulation  forever;  and 
aJthough  the  grand-vizier  was  there  with  his  reserves,  the  Duke 
of  Lorraine  determined  to  storm  the  fortress  anew.  It  was  a 
desperate  resolve  ;  but,  like  Abdurrahmen,  he  had  made  up  his 
mind  to  conquer  or  die. 

At  this  point  of  his  narration,  Eugene  paused  for  breath. 


250  PRINCE   EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

The  emperor,  perceiving  that  he  was  fatigued,  made  a  sign  to 
one  of  the  pages  in  attendance,  who  thereupon  placed  a  chair 
for  him— a  compliment  never  before  paid  by  a  sovereign  of 
Austria  to  any  man  below  the  rank  of  a  reigning  prince. 

"  Prince  Eugene  of  Savoy,"  said  Leopold,  "  as  a  grandee  of 
Spain,  and  a  knight  of  the  Golden  Fleece,  you  have  a  right  to 
be  seated  in  the  presence  of  your  sovereign.  Make  use  of  the 
privilege,  then  ;  for  if  you  stand  much  longer,  I  see  that  you 
will  not  have  strength  to  finish  your  recital ;  and  I  would  not 
abridge  it  by  a  word.  It  sounds  like  martial  music  to  my  en- 
raptured ear." 

"  Sire,"  replied  Eugene,  accepting  the  chair,  "  'tis  no  won- 
der if  the  boom  of  the  cannon  sound  like  music  to  the  son  of 
Charles  V.  ;  above  all,  when  it  thunders  to  proclaim  your 
majesty's  success.  On  the  2d  of  September  began  the  last  as- 
sault upon  the  fortress  of  Buda.  It  was  impossible  not  to  ad- 
mire the  intrepidity  of  our  enemies  :  to  a  man,  they  seemed  to 
have  sworn,  like  their  commander,  to  defend  the  post  or  die 
amid  its  ruins.  But  your  majesty's  troops  were  as  resolute  as 
they.  After  a  terrible  conflict  fought  over  the  bodies  of  their 
slain  comrades,  they  cut  to  pieces  a  detachment  of  Janizaries 
that  had  been  sent  to  oppose  their  passage. 

"  '  No  quarter  ! '  was  the  watchword  of  the  Moslems.  *  No 
quarter  ! '  cried  the  Christians  in  return.  '  No  quarter  ! '  shout- 
ed the  Bavarians,  as  they  mounted  a  breach  in  the  fortress,  and 
fought  hand  to  hand  with  its  frenzied  defenders.  The  latter 
poured  out  in  such  numbers  that  the  Bavarians  wavered,  and 
perhaps  might  have  been  repulsed,  had  not  the  gallant  Louis 
of  Baden  mounted  the  breach  himself,  and  called  upon  his 
men  to  follow.  They  obeyed  ;  the  Bavarians  rallied,  and  the 
prince  ordered  a  fresh  attack.  Thanks  to  his  valor  and  able 
generalship,  the  Turks  were  forced  back,  and  fled  in  confusion  ; 
some  finding  refuge  within  the  walls,  others,  in  their  dismay ^ 
plunging  into  the  moat.  The  Bavarians  followed  the  fugi- 
tives, and  now  from  every  castle- window  waved  the  white  flag 
of  surrender. 

"  To  the  hero  of  Buda,  the  brave  Abdurrahmen,  our  com- 
manders would  gladly  have  granted  an  honorable  retreat. 
But  he  refused  mercy  at  the  hands  of  his  admiring  antago- 


THE  FALL  OF  BUDA.  251 

nists.  Alone  lie  stood,  sabre  in  hand,  defending  the  breach 
against  our  advancing  troops,  until  he  fell,  pierced  by  twenty 
balls,  while  the  bodies  of  his  slain  foes  lay  like  a  monument 
of  his  heroism  around  him.  With  the  death  of  Abdurrahmen 
the  struggle  ceased,  and  that  night,  as  a  last  act  of  defiance, 
the  Turks  sprung  a  mine  in  the  fortress,  and  reduced  it  to  a 
heap  of  ruins. 

"  The  next  morning,  the  grand- vizier  retreated,  and  the  plan 
of  attack,  inspired  by  the  genius  of  the  Duke  of  Lorraine,  had 
destroyed  the  pi'estige  of  the  Sultan  in  Hungary.  Scarcely  in- 
ferior to  this  great  commander  was  the  ability  displayed  by 
Prince  Louis  of  Baden,  and  Max  Emmanuel.  No  man  who 
beheld  them  can  ever  forget  the  sight  of  these  two  great 
heroes,  handsome  and  brave  as  Hector  and  Pati'oclus. 

*'  Sire,  my  tale  is  ended.  Buda  has  fallen,  and  its  conquer- 
ors have  immortalized  themselves." 

"  You  say,  your  tale  is  at  an  end.  Prince  Eugene,"  replied 
the  emperor,  smiling.  "  But  you  have  omitted  something  in 
your  recital." 

"  What  is  it,  your  majesty  ? " 

"  You  have  not  once  mentioned  the  name  of  the  Prince  of 
Savoy  ;  and  yet  he  must  have  been  there.  You  have  exalt- 
ed the  genius  of  the  Duke  of  Lorraine,  and  you  have  likened 
his  two  generals  to  the  heroes  of  antiquity.  It  is  said  that  the 
Prince  of  Savoy  is  the  inseparable  companion  of  Prince  Louis 
and  Max  Emmanuel.  Where,  then,  was  he,  while  his  friends 
were  gaining  immortality  ? " 

"  Sire,  he  was  with  them  ;  but,  as  he  did  no  more  than  his 
duty,  I  have  nothing  further  to  say." 

"  It  is  your  duty,  as  bearer  of  dispatches  from  your  com- 
mander-in  chief,  to  answer  my  inquiries,  let  them  relate  to 
whomsoever  they  will.  Where  were  you,  then,  while  your 
friends  were  astonishing  you  with  their  valor  ? " 

"  He  was  at  their  side,  your  majesty.  Before  the  siege,  the 
three  friends  had  sworn  never  to  surrender  to  the  enemy.  It 
was  therefore  natural  that  the  Prince  of  Savoy  should  follow 
tbe  example  of  his  superior  officers,  and  imitate  their  gal' 
lantry." 

"  But  was  he  in  no  danger  ?    Was  he  not  wounded  ? " 


252  PRINCE   EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

"  Sire,  on  such  a  day,  no  soldier  could  hope  to  escape  from 
danger  ;  above  all,  the  officers  who  led  them  into  action.  The 
Prince  of  Savoy's  horse  was  shot  under  him,  and  he  himself 
was  slightly  wounded  in  the  hand  by  an  arrow." 

"  Where  was  he  stationed  on  that  last  day  ? " 

"  He  was  ordered  to  skirmish  with  the  enemy,  and  prevent 
them  from  making  sorties  on  the  besiegers." 

*'  A  liard  task,  for  one  so  young." 

"Yes,  sire  ;  for  it  condemned  him  to  inaction,  while  his 
comrades  were  gaining  glory.  But  before  the  close  of  the 
day,  fate  befriended  him.  The  grand- vizier  having  made  no 
attempt  to  join  the  besieged,  the  Prince  of  Savoy  was  so  for- 
tunate as  to  come  in  with  his  dragoons,  just  as  the  Bavarians 
were  about  to  be  repulsed  from  the  breach." 

"  Ah  !  I  thought  so  !  "  exclaimed  Leopold  ;  "  and  doubt- 
less his  appearance  had  much  to  do  with  the  successful  storm- 
ing of  the  castle.  And  how  did  the  Duke  of  Lorraine  reward 
his  gallantry  ? " 

"  Sire,  he  was  rewarded  far,  far  beyond  his  deserts.  The 
Duke  of  Lorraine,  in  presence  of  the  army,  folded  him  in  his 
embrace." 

"That  was  well  done.  Come  hither,  Prince  Eugene.  I, 
too,  would  reward  you  as  the  Duke  of  Lon-aine  did." 

Eugene  hastened  to  the  emperor,  who  folded  him  in  his 
arms,  and  then  led  him  to  the  empress. 

"  Your  majesty,"  said  he  to  his  wife,  "  I  present  you  a  young 
hero,  who  for  three  years  has  been  gaining  renown  in  the  serv- 
ice of  Austria.  I  recommend  him  to  your  favor,  and  beg  that 
you,  too,  will  bestow  some  reward  upon  him." 

The  empress  turned  her  soft  blue  eyes  upon  the  prince,  who 
bent  his  knee,  and  kissed  the  hand  she  extended  to  him.  "  I  will 
pray  for  you,"  said  she,  "  as  long  as  I  live  ;  and,  as  a  testimonial 
of  my  regard,  I  beg  you  to  accept  my  husband's  portrait." 

Unclasping  from  her  neck  a  heavy  gold  chain,  to  which 
was  attached  a  miniature  set  in  brilliants,  she  threw  it  over 
Eugene's  shoulder  with  these  words  : 

"  Let  the  emperor's  likeness  be  to  you  a  souvenir  of  your 
past  heroism,  and  may  it  inspire  you  for  the  future  to  serve 
him  with  loyalty  and  love." 


THE  FRIENDS.  253 

**  Your  majesty,"  replied  Eugene,  "  of  my  own  free  will  I 
chose  the  Emperor  of  Austria  for  my  sovereign  ;  but  from  this 
day  forth  I  am  pledged  to  serve  him  as  his  native-bom  sub- 
ject :  and  the  chain  so  graciously  bestowed  by  your  majesty,  I 
shall  wear  as  emblematic  of  my  fealty,  for  life." 

The  emperor  signed  to  Eugene  to  rise,  and  addressed  him- 
self to  all  present  "  Vienna,  too,  shall  have  her  share  in  this 
day's  joy.  The  crescent,  which  for  more  than  a  hundred  years 
has  proclaimed  to  the  world  that  Austria's  capital  was  once  in 
the  hands  of  the  infidel,  shall  be  taken  down  from  the  tower 
of  St.  Stephen's.  We  have  won  the  right  to  displace  the  ac- 
cursed emblem,  and  it  shall  once  more  give  place  to  the  sym- 
bol of  Christianity  I " 

The  crescent  of  which  the  emperor  spoke,  had  been  on  tKe 
tower  of  St.  Stephen's  since  the  year  1529,  when  Vienna  was 
besieged  by  the  Sultan  Soliman.  His  guns  were  being  con- 
stantly directed  against  the  tower  ;  and  the  Viennese  having 
sent  a  deputation  to  request  that  the  Turks  would  not  de- 
molish their  beautiful  cathedral,  Soliman  consented  to  spare  it 
on  one  condition.  This  was,  that  the  cross  should  be  removed, 
and  the  crescent  take  its  place.  In  their  extremity,  the  prom- 
ise was  made  ;  and,  from  that  day,  the  Christian  church  had 
borne  the  hated  symbol  of  Mohammedanism. 

At  the  fall  of  Buda,  Leopold  refused  to  be  bound  any 
longer  by  the  promise  extorted  from  his  ancestors  ;  and,  in  com- 
memoration of  the  capture  of  this  important  post,  a  cross 
was  erected  on  the  tower,  with  this  inscription  :  "  Luna  de- 
pofiuit,  et  crux  exaltata.  Anno  quo  Buda  a  Turcis  capt% 
MDCLXXXVI." 


CHAPTER  n. 

THE  FRIENDS. 

With  the  capture  of  Buda,  the  campaign  of  1686  closed. 
The  army  went  into  winter  quarters,  and  the  officers  all  con- 
gregrated  in  Vienna,  there  to  indemnify  themselves  for  past 
hardships  by  a  few  months  of  rocreatiou. 


254:  PRINCE   EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

Eugene  of  Savoy  participated  very  little  in  the  gayety  of 
court-life.  While  his  companion-in-arms,  Louis  of  Baden, 
plunged  headlong  into  the  vortex  of  pleasure,  the  shy  young 
Frenchman  led  a  most  retired  existence,  in  his  little  hotel  in 
the  Herrengasse.  He  had  purchased  this  residence  for  his 
brother's  widow  and  children,  intending  to  make  it  not  only 
their  home,  but  his  own.  The  young  widow,  after  spending 
two  years  with  her  brother-in-law,  forsook  the  world  and  re- 
tired to  a  convent,  there  to  lay  her  burden  of  grief  at  the  feet 
of  her  Lord.  Her  children  she  committed  to  the  care  of 
their  great-grandmother,  the  Princess  de  Carignan ;  and 
Eugene  was  left  to  the  solitude  of  a  bachelor  home,  without 
one  friendly  voice  to  bid  him  welcome  to  its  cold  hearth. 

Even  Conrad,  his  faithful  Conrad,  was  absent.  Eugene 
had  sent  him  to  Turin  with  messages  to  Victor  Amadeus, 
which  he  had  not  thought  it  prudent  to  write.  For  Conrad 
was  not  only  loyal  and  affectionate  ;  he  had  proved  himself  a 
person  of  such  uncommon  ability,  that  he  was  now  his  lord's 
secretary,  no  longer  his  servant.  He  had  the  care  of  his 
money,  the  administration  of  his  affairs,  and  was  his  trusty 
and  confidential  friend.  Eugene  missed  him  sorely  ;  for  Con- 
rad had  accompanied  him  "  that  night "  to  the  Palais  Royal, 
and  although  Laura's  name  had  never  passed  his  lips,  still  her 
lover  found  some  solace  in  the  companionship  of  the  man  who 
had  tended  him  during  that  dreadful  illness,  and  who,  he 
knew  full  well,  had  learned  from  his  unconscious  lips  the  se- 
cret of  his  love  and  its  blight. 

Eugene  was  in  his  cabinet.  He  had  been  engaged  in  the 
study  of  mathematics,  and  the  perusal  of  Julius  Caesar's  cam- 
paigns ;  after  which,  by  way  of  recreation,  he  sat  down  to  his 
escritoire,  and,  unfolding  a  sheet  of  paper,  began  to  make 
plans  of  palaces  and  gardens. 

He  was  so  absorbed  in  his  drawing,  that  he  neither  heard 
nor  saw  the  door  open,  and  give  entrance  to  a  handsome 
young  man  in  a  rich  Spanish  costume.  For  one  moment  the 
visitor  paused  on  the  threshold,  and  smilingly  surveyed  Eu- 
gene ;  then,  crossing  the  room  on  tiptoes,  he  laid  his  hand 
upon  the  prince's  shoulder. 

"  I  certainly  thought  I  would  surprise  you  inditing  a  poem 


THE  FRIENDS.  255 

or  a  letter  to  the  lady  of  your  thoughts,  and  here  I  find  you 
drawing  plans  ! " 

''  Max  Emmanuel ! "  exclaimed  Eugene,  rising  joyfully,  and 
embracing  his  friend. 

"  Yes,  Max  Emmanuel,  who,  having  paid  his  devoirs  to  his 
imperial  father-irf-law,  has  come  with  all  haste  to  ask  how  it 
fares  with  his  friend.  The  servants  told  me  you  were  in  your 
cabinet,  so  I  forbade  them  to  announce  me,  and  made  my  way 
hither  all  alone,  that  I  might  take  you  by  surprise,  and  find 
out  whether  you  loved  me  as  much  as  I  do  you.  Seeing  you 
intent  upon  writing,  I  was  quite  confident  that  I  was  about  to 
discover  a  great  secret — when  lo  !  I  see  nothing  but  a  sheet  of 
drawing-paper,  covered  with  porches  and  pilasters.  Tell  me 
the  truth,  Eugene — why  is  it  that,  instead  of  worshipping  Aph- 
rodite, like  other  youths,  you  are  doing  homage  to  the  house- 
hold gods  of  domestic  architecture  ? '' 

"  Why,  my  dear  Max,  domestic  architecture  interests  me, 
because  I  expect  to  build  houses,  and  lay  out  grounds.  I  do 
not  worship  Aphrodite  like  other  youths,  because— because  I 
know  her  not." 

The  elector  looked  searchingly  into  Eugene's  solemn  eyes. 
*'  Are  you  in  earnest  ? "  asked  he.  "  Do  you  intend  me  to  be- 
lieve that  you  are  unacquainted  with  the  ecstasies  and  tribula- 
tions of  love  ? " 

"No,"  replied  Eugene,  sadly,  "for  I  am  too  truly  your 
friend  to  deceive  you.  Max.  I  have  loved,  but  my  love  was 
unfortunate  ;  and  the  wound  it  has  made  in  my  heart  is  too 
painful  to  be  probed.  Dear  friend,  let  us  speak  of  it  never- 
more 1 " 

"  On  the  contrary,  let  us  speak  of  it  together  without  re- 
serve. A  hero  like  Eugene,  who  has  faced  death,  and  so  often 
wrested  victory  from  his  enemies,  can  surely  contemplate  such 
a  wound  as  Cupid's  dart  inflicts  upon  a  man  I  But  tell  me, 
what  are  unfortunate  loves  ?  mine  have  all  been  crowned  with 
myrtle,  and  smothered  in  roses." 

Eugene  was  silent  for  a  time  ;  then  raising  his  large,  melan- 
choly eyes,  till  they  rested  affectionately  upon  the  bright, 
laughing  countenance  of  his  friend,  he  spoke  :  "  I  can  well  be- 
lieve that  you  know  nothing  of  the  pangs  inflicted  by  unhappy 


256  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

love  ;  for  you  are  handsome,  distinguished,  and  gifted.  I,  who 
am  none  of  these,  can  tell  you  what  it  is  to  love  adversely.  It 
is  to  love  with  passion  ;  to  be  parted  from  the  object  of  your 
love  ;  and  not  to  know  whether  she,  like  you,  is  constant  to 
her  vows,  and  suffers  from  your  absence,  as  you  do  from  hers. 
Pray  Heaven  that  love  may  never  come  to  you  in  such  a 
shape  as  this." 

"  No  danger  of  me  contracting  the  malady,"  replied  Max  ; 
"  I  am  constitutionally  incapable  of  receiving  it.  I  pluck  the 
fruit  or  flower  that  grows  nearest,  never  suffering  my  imagina- 
tion to  run  away  with  my  longings.  But  never  mind  me  and 
my  sybaritic  interpretations  of  the  tender  passion.  Are  your 
woes  irremediable  ?    Is  the  lady  married  ? " 

"  In  the  eyes  of  the  world  she  is." 

*'  But  not  in  the  eyes  of  God,  you  would  say.  Then  her 
marriage  must  have  been  compulsory  or  fraudulent  ? " 

"It  was  fraudulent." 

"  Then  hie  we  to  the  pope  for  justice  !  His  holiness  will 
not  refuse  it  to  such  a  brave  crusader  as  you,  and  I  myself  will 
be  youi*  advocate.  Give  me  pen  and  paper.  I  will  write  at 
once,  send  your  signature  and  mine  to  the  petition,  and  dis- 
patch it  by  a  courier  this  very  day  ;  and  then  the  world  will 
see  whether  we,  who  stormed  Buda,  may  not  storm  adverse 
fortune  also." 

"  Dear  friend,  neither  the  pope  nor  you  can  storm  my  ad- 
verse fortunes.  I  must  hear  from  my  beloved  whether  she  is 
true  to  me  before  I  take  one  step  to  possess  myself  of  her. 
For  three  years  I  have  waited  in  vain  for  her  summons  ;  and 
yet  my  longing  arms  are  outstretched  to  clasp  her,  and  never 
while  I  live  will  they  encircle  the  form  of  another  !  " 

"  Nay — these  are  the  enthusiastic  ravings  of  recent  disap- 
pointment. For  a  few  years  longer  you  may  sorrow  for  your 
first  love ;  but  oblivion  will  come,  all  in  good  time,  and  you 
will  end  by  loving  some  other  woman  as  deserving  as  your 
absent  mistress,  aad  more  attainable.  After  all,  ambition,  not 
love,  is  the  business  of  life  ;  and  Cytherea's  groves  grow  not 
a  flower  that  can  compare  with  the  laurels  which  fame 
places  on  the  brow  of  the  conqueror.  It  is  well  for  me 
that  I  am  ten  years  your  senior,  else  I  should  have  been 


THE  FRIEND&  257 

obliged  to  come  behind  you,  Eugene,  and  pick  up  your  cast- 
off  leaves." 

"  The  Elector  of  Bavaria  is  not  a  man  so  easily  set  aside/*' 
was  Eugene's  reply. 

"  And  yet  effoils  are  continually  being  made  to  set  him 
aside,"  cried  the  elector,  hastily. 

"  Who  could  be  so  presuming  as  to  lay  his  sacrilegious  hand 
upon  the  well-earned  laurels  of  a  warrior  so  distinguished  as 
your  highness  ? " 

"  Who  ?  You  know  quite  as  well  as  I,  that  it  is  the  Duke 
of  Lorraine." 

*'  Ah  !  "  exclaimed  Eugene,  with  enthusiasm,  "  who  can 
compete  with  him  ?  He  is  the  greatest  man  of  the  age.  As 
learned  as  he  is  brave  ;  as  prudent  as  he  is  resolute ;  a  wise 
statesman,  an  unrivalled  general ;  equally  distinguished  in  the 
cabinet  and  the  field.  How  fortunate  I  have  been  in  having 
him  for  my  master  in  the  art  of  war  I  " 

'*You  are  modest,"  said  the  elector,  derisively.  "As  for 
me,  I  have  no  ambition  to  follow  any  master  in  the  art  of 
war.  I  wish  to  carve  out  my  own  plans  and  schemes,  and  I 
am  weary  of  being  subject  to  the  will  of  the  Duke  of  Lor- 
raine." 

"  He  is  commander-in-chief  of  the  army,"  urged  Eugene. 
"  No  army  can  be  without  a  head,  to  which  all  its  members 
must  be  subordinate." 

"  But  why  must  that  head  be  Charles  of  Lorraine,  pray  ? " 

"  You  surely  would  not  dream  of  supplanting  him  !  "  cried 
Eugene. 

"  Yes,  1  would  ;  and  I  have  determined  to  submit  to  his 
dictation  no  longer.  If  I  cannot  have  a  command  independ- 
ent of  the  Duke  of  Lorraine,  I  shall  withdraw  my  troops,  re- 
main in  Bavaria,  and  leave  my  father-in-law  to  fight  his  own 
battles  with  the  Turks." 

"  You  will  do  no  such  thing,"  said  Eugene,  laying  his  hand 
upon  the  prince's  shoulder,  and  looking  anxiously  into  his 
lace.  "  You  will  not  endanger  the  great  cause  for  which  we 
have  fought  together  by  the  interference  of  petty  personal 
jealousies.  No,  Max  Emmanuel,  you  are  too  magnanimous  to 
sacrifice  the  interests  of  Christendom  to  such  considerations. 


258  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

Moreover,  you  have  gained  too  much  renown  as  a  general,  to 
he  overshadowed  hy  the  reputation  of  any  man." 

"  I  do  not  know  that.  I  only  know  that  the  Duke  of  Lor- 
raine is  in  my  way,  and  that  for  the  future  he  must  stand 
aside,  or  I  resign  my  commission  in  the  imperial  army.  But 
these  are  matters  of  future  discussion.  We  will  postpone  this 
altercation  until  the  opening  of  our  next  campaign.  Mean- 
while— do  you  know  what  brought  me  hither  this  morning  ? 
I  come  to  snatch  you  away  from  cold  contemplation,  and  in- 
troduce you  to  society." 

'*  I  have  no  taste  for  society,"  replied  Eugene,  shrinking 
from  the  very  thought.  "  I  love  solitude  ;  and  mine  is  peopled 
with  delicious  visions  of  the  past,  as  well  as  glorious  aspira- 
tions for  the  future." 

"  Of  what  nature  are  your  aspirations  ?  They  point  to  mili- 
tary distinction,  I  hope.     Do  they  not  ? " 

"  Yes  ;  and  I  tmst  that  I  shall  attain  it  honorably.  Fate 
will  assign  me  my  place  ;  the  rest  remains  for  me  to  do.  I 
have  too  much  to  learn,  to  mingle  with  the  world." 

"Man  learns  not  only  through  the  study  of  books,  but 
through  that  of  human  nature,"  exclaimed  Max  Emmanuel  ; 
"  and  you  need  never  hope  for  greatness  unless  you  gain  knowl- 
edge of  the  world.  I  have  come  to  entice  you  away,  and  I 
will  not  be  refused." 

"  "Whither  would  you  entice  me  ? "  asked  Eugene,  smiling. 

"To  the  paradise  of  pleasure  and  of  lovely  women — to 
Venice  ! " 

Eugene  started,  and  a  glow  overspread  his  pale  face.  "  To 
Venice  ! "  echoed  he.     "  To  Venice  ! " 

"  Ay,  prince — to  Venice,"  repeated  Max  Emmanuel.  "  To 
live  over  the  '  Arabian  Nights,'  by  joining  the  great  carni- 
val." 

"  I  have  heard  that  Venice  is  the  seat  of  all  elegance  and 
refinement,  and  that  no  man  who  has  not  graduated  in  its 
school  of  gallantry  is  considered  perfect  in  worldly  accom- 
plishments." 

"  Then  you  perceive  that  you,  who  are  so  ambitious,  must 
go  with  me  to  Venice  to  receive  your  diploma  as  a  gallant. 
My  heart  beats  with  joyful  impatience  as  I  think  of  the  de- 


THE  FRIENDS.  259 

lights  that  await  us.  The  carnival  is  to  be  unusually  brilliant 
this  year.  The  Prince  of  Hanover,  the  Margraves  of  Baireuth 
and  of  Baden,  the  brave  commander-in-chief  of  the  republican 
armies,  Morosini,  and  Admirals  Molino  and  Delphini,  are  all 
to  be  there.  Morosini  himself  has  written  me  an  invitation  to 
the  carnival,  and  you  must  accompany  me." 

"  No,  your  highnesis,"  replied  Eugene,  seriously.  ''  I  have 
not  been  invited  ;  there  is  therefore  no  reason  whv  I  should 
go." 

"  But  if  I  tell  you  that  I  will  consider  it  as  a  proof  of  your 
friendship,"  persisted  the  elector,  "  then  I  hope  you  will  no 
longer  refuse  me.  Indeed,  you  would  do  me  the  greatest 
favor." 

"  How  could  it  possibly  be  a  favor  ? "  asked  Eugene. 

"  I  will  tell  you  how.  I  am  impulsive  and  easily  led  away  : 
your  principles  are  firm  as  a  rock.  I  have  known  you  for 
three  years,  and  have  closely  observed  your  character,  Eugene. 
You  are  sensible,  honorable,  and  independent ;  you  are  re- 
served, yet  sincere — brave,  yet  discreet.  You  are  more  than 
all  this — you  are  an  honest  man,  rejoicing  in  the  fame  of 
others,  and  never  blind  to  worth  because  of  envy  or  longing 
for  notoriety." 

"  My  dear,  dear  friend,"  interrupted  Eugene,  "  you  overrate 
me  beyond—" 

"  No,  I  do  not  overrate  you,"  was  the  elector's  reply.  "  I 
appreciate  you — that  is  all ;  and  I  want  you  for  a  counsellor. 
You  know  how  a  reigning  prince  is  surrounded  by  flatterers  ; 
how  his  follies  are  heralded  to  the  world  as  virtues  ;  and, 
above  all,  you  know  how  many  snares  are  spread  for  such  a 
gilded  butterfly  by  artful  women,  who  long,  not  only  for  his 
heart  but  for  his  gold  ;  above  all,  when  he  calls  himself  a 
prince,  and  is  the  son-in-law  of  an  emperor." 

'*  You  have  a  poor  opinion  of  women,"  smiled  Eugene. 

"They  have  given  me  no  reason  to  think  well  of  them. 
I  know  the  whole  sex  to  be  fickle,  coquettish,  and  heartless  ; 
and  yet  I  am  forever  being  led  astray  by  their  siren  voices. 
And  when  the  wicked  enchantresses  smile  and  swear  that  they 
love  me,  I  am  ravished— albeit,  I  know  that  every  word  they 
utter  is  a  lie." 


260  PRINCE   EUGENE   AND   HIS  TIMES. 

"  You  mean  wlien  they  smiled  and  swore,  I  presume,"  said 
Eugene  ;  "  for  such  delusions  must  have  ended  with  your  mar- 
riage. The  husband  of  the  beautiful  Archduchess  Antonia 
need  not  fear  the  wiles  of  Phryne  or  Lais." 

"  Pardon  me,"  replied  the  elector,  with  a  woe-begone  ex- 
pression of  countenance,  "  they  have  become  doubly  danger- 
ous, since  they  are  forbidden  fruit.  I  never  was  intended  to 
be  a  model  of  conjugal  fidelity,  and  my  heart  beats  fearfully 
when  I  think  of  the  starry  eyes,  the  raven  hair,  the  pearly 
cheeks  of  the  fair  women  of  Venice  I  I  have  very  little  confi- 
dence in  my  own  valor,  if  I  have  to  meet  them  single-handed. 
Do,  Eugene,  come  with  me  ;  let  us  be  companions-in-pleasure 
as  we  have  been  companions-in-arms.  I  depend  upon  you  to 
fortify  my  virtue  in  the  hour  of  need." 

"  Your  true  and  loving  friend  I  am  and  will  be  ever,",  re- 
plied Eugene  ;  "  but  do  not  ask  me  to  go  to  Venice.  I  am  too 
poor  to  go  thither  in  such  distinguished  companionship. " 

"  It  is  understood  that  you  go  as  my  guest ;  there  can  then 
be  no  question  of  riches  or  poverty.  I  have  engaged  a  palace 
for  me  and  my  suite  ;  my  household  are  already  there,  and  you 
have  nothing  to  do  but  to  make  yourself  at  home.  Every 
thing  T  possess  is  at  my  friend's  disposal." 

"  Which  means  that  your  highness  considers  me  as  one  of 
your  suite,  and  perchance  intends  to  supply  me  with  pocket- 
money  ? "  said  Eugene,  proudly. 

"  Nay,  Eugene,"  replied  the  elector,  offering  his  hand,  "  I 
meant  nothing  that  could  offend  my  friend.  I  meant  that  he 
should  share  with  me  as  a  brother  whatever  I  possess. 

"  There  are  two  things,  your  highness,  which  no  man  can 
share  with  another.  One  is  his  mistress,  the  other  his  honor. 
I  am  poor,  and  therefore  I  cannot  share  with  you  your  advan- 
tages of  fortune  ;  I  am  obscure,  and  scorn  to  shine  by  the  bor- 
rowed light  of  your  highness's  exalted  station.  Sooner  would 
I  dwell  in  a  cottage  than  in  a  palace  at  another  man's  expense." 

Max  Emmanuel  had  at  first  regarded  Eugene  with  unmixed 
astonishment ;  then  the  expression  of  his  handsome  face  had 
changed  to  one  of  admiration  and  tenderness.  As  the  prince 
ceased,  the  elector  rose  from  his  chair,  and  took  both  his 
friend's  hands. 


TEE  FRIENDS.  261 

"You  are,  indeed,  one  of  Nature's  noblemen,"  continued  he, 
affectionately.  "Your  view  of  this  matter  is,  as  usual,  ex- 
ceptional ;  but  it  is  the  highest  view  that  can  be  taken  of  such 
an  offer ;  and,  although  I  am  the  loser  thereby,  I  honor  you 
for  the  refusal.  I  must  then  renounce  the  pleasure  1  had 
promised  myself  of  having  your  company  to  Venice,"  added 
the  elector,  with  a  sigh. 

"  Perhaps  not,"  returned  Eugene.  "  Any  thing  on  earth  I 
would  do  to  prove  you  my  friendship ;  and  I  may  go  to 
Venice,  not  for  the  sake  of  its  beautiful  women,  but  for  the 
pleasure  of  bearing  you  company. " 

"  Thank  you  for  that '  may,'  Eugene.  But  let  your  decision 
be  a  speedy  one,  I  implore  you  ;  for  I  long  to  quit  a  court  that 
bristles  with  so  many  tiresome  Spanish  formalities.  I  would 
be  glad  to  start  to-morrow,  but  I  will  wait  for  you.  How  long 
must  I  wait?" 

"Only  until  my  secretary  returns  from  Turin.  I  expect 
him  to-day." 

"  So  much  the  better.  Let  me  hear  from  you  as  soon  as 
possible." 

"I  will." 

The  elector  rose  and  took  his  leave,  while  Eugene  returned 
W)  his  escritoire,  and  tried  to  resume  his  occupation.  But  his 
thoughts  were  straying  to  Venice,  and  his  hand  lay  listless 
on  the  paper. 

"  To  Venice  1 "  murmured  he.  "  To  Venice — perchance  to 
Laura!" 

As  he  pronounced  her  name,  he  broke  into  one  wild  ejacu- 
lation of  joy. 

"  See  her  ?  Oh,  yes  I "  cried  he,  passionately.  "  Gaze  into 
my  Laura's  eyes,  I  must— should  the  sight  cost  me  my  life  I 
But — no  I "  faltered  he,  suddenly.  "  I  must  not  see  her.  She 
has  forgotten  me  ;  and  perhaps  at  this  very  hour,  when  my 
heart  throbs  to  bursting  at  the  thought  of  meeting  her  again, 
she  jests  with  her  husband  at  the  silly  episode  of  her  foolish 
fancy  for  me  !  Perhaps  she  rejoices  at  her  escape  from  alli- 
ance with  the  disgraced  family  of  the  De  Soissons,  and  blesses 
Heaven  for — peace,  doubting  heart  I  I  will  believe — I  vinll 
hope—Laura,  my  Laura. — Ah,  Conrad,  are  you  here  at  last  ? " 


262  PRINCE   EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

And  Eugene,  springing  from  his  seat,  clasped  Conrad's 
hands  within  his  own. 

'*Yes,  your  highness,"  replied  Conrad,  his  face  heaming 
with  joy  to  see  his  dear  lord.  "  I  have  just  alighted,  and  must 
apologize  for  my  dusty  garb.  I  did  not  stop  to  change  my 
dress." 

"You  were  right — quite  right,  and  it  needs  no  apology. 
Tell  me  the  result  of  your  mission.  Did  you  speak  with  the 
Duke  of  Savoy  in  person  ? " 

"  Yes,  your  highness,  he  was  so  kind  as  to  grant  me  two 
audiences.  I  related  to  him  the  entire  history  of  your  em- 
barrassments, and  their  cause.  I  told  him  of  the  sequestration 
of  your  estates  by  the  covetous  King  of  France,  and  of  the 
debts  which  this  act  of  injustice  had  compelled  you  to  leave  in 
Paris.  He  asked  me  what  was  your  pay  as  colonel  in  the 
Austrian  service.  I  told  him  that  the  pay  was  fluctuating  as 
to  amount,  and  uncertain  as  to  receipt ;  but  at  its  maximum  it 
might  reach  the  sum  of  ten  thousand  florins  a  year.  Upon 
this,  he  said:  'Ten  thousand  florins  a  year  to  maintain  a 
prince  of  the  house  of  Savoy,  and  one  of  the  most  distinguished 
officers  in  the  imperial  service  !  Well  may  he  be  straitened 
in  purse  ! '  Then  I  took  courage,  and  told  his  highness  that 
you  could  not  possibly  live  on  less  than  fifteen  thousand 
florins,  and  that  you  appealed  to  him  to  assist  you  in  maintain- 
ing the  dignity  of  the  ducal  house  of  Savoy,  and  saving  its 
representatives  from  absolute  penury." 

"  And  what  was  the  answer  ?  " 

"  He  requested  me  to  return  the  next  day,  which  I  did,  I 
was  most  kindly  received,  and  his  highness  said  that  he  hoped 
he  had  found  a  remedy  for  your  embarrassments,  my  lord. 
Although  forbidden  by  the  laws  of  Savoy  to  pay  a  salary  to 
any  man  not  in  the  service  of  his  own  dukedom,  he  would  be 
happy  to  assist  your  highness  from  his  own  privy  purse,  until 
he  had  arranged  matters  in  a  manner  more  satisfactory  and 
more  secure.  Prince  Antony  of  Savoy,  who  is  in  a  dying  con- 
dition, possesses  the  revenues  of  five  abbeys,  which  his  high- 
ness of  Savoy  hopes  to  have  transferred  to  your  highness,  thus 
securing  to  you  a  fixed  and  certain  income,  not  subject  to  the 
sequestrations  of  the  King  of  France." 


THE  FRIENDS.  263 

"He  wrote  no  letter?"  v 

"  No,  your  highness.  The  duke  gave  me  four  rouleaux  of 
three  hundred  ducats  each  for  present  need,  and  bade  me  take 
them  as  his  answer  to  your  highness's  letter." 

Eugene  smiled.  "  Therein  I  recognize  my  prudent  cousin, 
who  dares  not  trust  his  promises  to  writing.  But  I  thank  him 
for  his  golden  answer.  How  much  did  you  say  you  brought^ 
Conrad?" 

**  Twelve  hundred  ducats,  my  lord,  which  will  cover  all  ex- 
penses until  the  opening  of  the  spring  campaign,  when  your 
pay  is  due." 

*'  But,  my  dear  Conrad,  you  forget  that  we  have  debts  to 
pay.     And,  by-tbe-by,  what  news  do  you  bring  from  Paris  ? " 

"  Your  highness's  creditors  there  were  so  astounded  at  the 
prospect  of  being  paid,  that  I  almost  regretted  to  be  obliged  to 
disturb  the  tranquillity  with  which  they  had  accepted  their 
losses.  They  were  so  grateful  that  they  bade  me  say  they 
would  be  perfectly  satisfied  with  yearly  instalments  of  any 
amount  your  highness  would  be  pleased  to  pay.  So  I  made 
arrangements  to  close  your  whole  indebtedness  at  the  end  of 
three  years." 

"  A  long  time  for  those  poor  fellows  to  wait  for  their  dues," 
said  Eugene,  shaking  his  head.  "Conrad,  if  we  obtain  the 
transfer  of  those  abbey  revenues,  the  first  sum  we  receive 
therefrom  goes  to  my  creditors  in  Paris.     Remember  that."  * 

*'  I  shall  be  very  sure  to  remember  it,  my  lord  ;  for  it  will 
be  an  occasion  of  rejoicing  to  many  an  honest  tradesman,  each 
one  of  whom  will  bless  your  highness's  magnanimity." 

"  Magnanimity  I  I  call  it  bare  justice  1 "  said  Eugene. 
"Give  me  the  memoranda." 

Conrad  presented  the  package,  which  his  lord  opened,  ex- 
amining each  account  until  he  had  seen  all. 

**  I  miss  one  account  here  which  I  would  gladly  pay,"  said 
he,  with  some  embarrassment. 

"  The  account  of  Monsieur  Louis  ? "  was  Conrad's  prompt 
reply. 

*  The  payment  of  Prinee  Eugene^s  debts  wm  regarded  as  Bomething  ultra- 
honorable  by  the  people  of  Paris,  and  the  Duchess  Elizabeth-Charlotte  speaks 
«f  it  in  her  letters  as  a  noble  action.— See  "  Letters  of  Elizaboth-Charlotte." 
18 


264:  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

Eugene  made  a  motion  of  assent,  while  Conrad  continued  : 

"  My  lord,"  said  he,  averting  bis  eyes  from  the  prince,  "  1 
went  to  Monsieur  Louis,  as  I  did  to  your  other  creditors.  He 
said  that  he  could  not  accept  payment  for  decorations  which 
had  never  been  completed.  He  would  always  hold  sacred  the 
remembrance  of  the  day  when  your  highness  fell  insensible 
upon  a  heap  of  garlands  that  were  to  have  ornamented  your 
reception-rooms,  and  he  had  been  near  to  lift  you  in  his  arms. 
He  told  me  this  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  my  lord  ;  pardon  me  if 
I  have  awakened  painful  reminiscences  by  the  recital ;  but  he 
begged  me  to  convey  his  message,  and  I  felt  bound  to  comply." 

For  some  moments  Eugene  kept  silence.  After  a  pause,  dur- 
ing which  Conrad  dared  not  meet  his  eye,  the  prince  replied  : 

"  Conrad,"  said  he,  "  if  I  should  ever  afford  to  have  a 
princely  retinue  again,  I  will  take  Monsieur  Louis  into  my 
service.  At  all  events,  if  I  ever  build  a  house,  he  shall  deco- 
rate it,  and  shall  be  well  paid  for  his  work. — And  now  to  other 
things.     Did  you  see  her  highness  the  Duchess  of  Orleajis  ?  '* 

"Yes,  my  lord.  Her  highness  was  walking  in  the  park 
when  your  letter  was  handed  to  her.  She  sent  for  me  at  once, 
and  received  me  in  the  little  pavilion." 

*' The  pavilion  !    The  pavilion  !    Goon." 

''  She  inquired  minutely  as  to  your  health,  prospects,  and 
'Condition.  She  asked  if  you  were  cheerful.  I  told  her  that 
you  were  always  in  high  spirits  on  the  day  of  a  battle.  Then 
she  would  have  me  relate  to  her  the  dangers  you  had  incurred, 
spoke  of  her  grief  at  hearing  you  had  been  wounded,  and 
seemed  never  to  tire  of  your  praises.  Then  she  sat  down  and 
begged  me  to  wait  until  she  wrote  you  a  short  letter.  Here  it 
is,  my  lord." 

Eugene  broke  the  seal ;  then,  as  if  ashamed  of  the  emotion 
that  was  welling  up  from  his  agitated  heart,  he  looked  at  Con- 
rad, who  understood  the  appeal,  and  withdrew. 

As  the  letter  was  opened,  a  small  bit  of  paper  fell  from  its 
folds,  and  fluttered  to  the  carpet.  Eugene,  without  observing 
it,  began  to  read  his  letter.     It  ran  thus  : 

"  I  cannot  refrain  from  sending  you  a  greeting  in  my  own 
hand.    My  dear  prince,  I  hold  you  in  affectionate  remem- 


€ 

'i---j 


l^^'M 


"Without  waiting  for  permission 
turned  his  back  and  left  the  room. 


.  »i    ii.4» 


our  oih 


>utidf^d.  and 


U'H''-  "   '  '  •  "V*^ 


THE  FRIENDS.  265 

brance  ;  let  me  hope  that  you  have  not  forgotten  me.  Every 
thing  remains  here  as  when  you  left ;  false,  frivolous,  and,  to 
me,  as  antagonistic  as  of  erst.  I  have  never  been  happy  since 
she  was  so  cruelly  forced  away  from  my  protection.  I  have 
had  news  of  her.  My  daughter,  who  lives  in  Turin,  made  a 
visit  to  Venice  lately.     I  had  begged  her,  if  possible,  to  give 

me  tidings  of ,  and  to  give  her  my  hearty  love.     They  met 

for  a  moment,  when  she  pressed  into  my  daughter's  hand  a 
little  note  for  me.  I  opened  it,  but  it  contained  only  the  slip  of 
paper  I  enclose.  Be  assured  of  my  sincere  and  constant  friend- 
ship. Elizabeth-Charlottb." 

*'  The  paper !  the  paper  ! "  exclaimed  Eugene,  as,  with 
trembling  hands,  he  opened  the  sheet,  and  found  nothing 
within.  "  Great  God  !  the  duchess  has  forgotten  to  enclose  it, 
and  I  must  away  to  Paris,  this  night,  this  very — " 

Just  then  his  eyes  rested  on  the  carpet,  and  there  at  his  feet 
lay  the  treasured  paper.     It  contained  these  words  : 

"  I  am  a  prisoner — watched  day  and  night.  Have  you,  too, 
forgotten  me  ?  I  cannot  believe  it ;  and,  after  three  long  years 
of  silence  and  of  suffering,  I  still  await  your  coming." 

As  Eugene  read  these  tender  words,  he  sank  on  his  knees, 
and  pressed  the  paper  to  his  lips.  "  Forgive  me,  my  Laura," 
murmured  he.  "  I  was  weak  in  faith,  and  unworthy  of  you. 
But  I  wiU  love  you  all  the  more  for  my  injustice.  I  come  I 
I  come  ! " 

He  rose  from  his  knees,  calling  for  Conrad,  who  was  in 
the  antechamber,  awaiting  a  summons  to  return.  Great  was 
his  astonishment  when  he  beheld  Eugene  advancing  toward 
him,  his  lips  parted  with  a  happy  smile,  his  eyes  beaming  with 
animation,  his  whole  bearing  transformed.  What  could  it 
mean? 

"  Conrad,"  cried  he,  and  his  very  voice  had  a  joyful  peal, 
like  the  chime  of  marriage-bells — "Conrad,  we  must  leave 
Vienna  this  evening.  Let  everything  be  in  readiness.  If  we 
have  not  gold  enough  with  our  cousin's  ducats,  borrow  more  ; 
but  be  ready  to  go  with  me  at  once.  Stay — I  had  almost 
forgotten.  Go  to  the  palace  ;  see  the  chamberlain  of  his 
highness  the  Elector  of  Bavaria,  and  tell  him  to  announce  to 


266  PRINCE  EUGEXE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

the  prince  that  Prince  Eugene  of  Savoy  leaves  this  evening 
for  Venice.  That  is  all.  Make  haste,  Conrad  !  Away  with 
you,  and  fly  back  as  soon  as  possible,  for  I  tell  you  that  we 
must  be  on  our  road  before  night !  " 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  MARQUIS  STROZZI. 

The  Marquis  Strozzi  was  alone  in  his  cabinet,  pacing  the 
room  with  clouded  brow  and  compressed  lips.  Now  and  then 
he  stopped  before  the  window  which  opened  on  a  balcony 
overlooking  the  Canale  Grande  ;  and  the  sight  of  the  gayly- 
decked  gondolas  that  shot  hither  and  thither  with  their  freight 
of  youth  and  youthful  glee,  seemed  to  intensify  his  discontent, 
and  rouse  him  to  positive  anger. 

"  They  are  shouting  their  stupid  welcome  to  these  foreign 
princes,"  muttered  he,  "  and  presently  she  will  be  attracted  by 
the  sound,  and  seek  to  know  what  it  means.  My  God  ! "  ejacu- 
lated he,  striking  his  forehead,  "  this  love  is  the  curse  of  my 
life.  It  will  drive  me  to  madness,  and  yet — and  yet  I  cannot 
overcome  it.  To  work,  then,  to  work  I  I  must  increase  my 
number  of  spies." 

In  the  centre  of  the  room,  on  a  table  of  Florentine  mosaic, 
lay  a  little  golden  bell,  fashioned  by  the  master-hand  of  Ben- 
venuto  Cellini.  The  marquis  rang  it  gently,  and,  before  he 
had  replaced  it,  a  secret  door  in  the  wall  slided  back,  giving 
entrance  to  a  masked  figure,  enveloped  in  a  long  black  cloak. 

Strozzi  surveyed  him  for  a  moment,  then,  throwing  himself 
upon  a  divan,  he  was  lost  in  contemplation  of  the  frescoes  by 
Paul  Veronese,  which  decorated  the  ceiling  of  this  luxurious 
apartment.  Meanwhile  the  mask  had  carefully  closed  the 
door,  and  stood  respectfully  silent. 

Finally  Strozzi  condescended  to  speak.  "Take  off  your 
mask."  The  man  obeyed,  and  Strozzi  gazed  upon  a  sinister 
face,  disfigured  by  a  long,  purple  scar,  which  reached  from  the 
left  temple  to  the  chin. 


THE  MARQUIS  STROZZL  26T 

"  Do  you  know,"  continued  the  maixjuis,  "  that  if  you  were 
to  appear  unmasked  in  the  market-place,  every  child  in  Venice 
would  i-ecognize  you,  Antonio  ? " 

"  Yes,  excellenza,"  was  the  humble  reply. 

*'  How  did  you  come  by  that  scar  ? "  sneered  the  patrician. 

Antonio  moved  impatiently,  and  glanced  imploringly  at 
the  marquis. 

The  latter  merely  repeated  the  question. 

Antonio  heaved  a  sigh,  and  his  head  dropped  to  his  breast. 

"  It  was  inflicted  by  my  father,''  murmured  he,  almost  in- 
audibly. 

"  Speak  louder,"  said  Strozzi.     "  Why  did  he  inflict  it  ? " 

The  man's  eyes  shot  fii-e,  but  he  dared  not  remonstrate. 
His  glance  fell  before  the  cold  glitter  of  Strozzi's  black  orbs, 
as  he  muttered  in  reply,  "I  was  trying  to  get  at  his  money, 
•when  he  rushed  in  upon  me,  and  gashed  my  face  with  a  dag- 

"  Upon  which  you  plunged  your  poniard  into  his  throat, 
and  made  an  end  of  your  respectable  parent  on  the  spot." 

"  Excellenza,"  cried  Antonio,  in  tones  of  deep  emotion,  "  I 
had  but  raised  it  to  ward  off  the  blow,  when  my  father  rushed 
upon  it  and  so  met  his  fate." 

The  marquis  laughed.  "  Rushed  upon  it— did  he  ?  Of 
course  you  are  an  innocent  lamb  of  a  parricide,  and  the  judg- 
ment passed  upon  your  act  was  a  most  iniquitous  one.  It  was 
doubtless  a  shame  that  you  were  publicly  maimed,  and  then 
led  back  to  prison  to  await  your  execution.  Possibly  you  may 
remember  the  night  that  followed  your  punishment,  when  a 
priest  entered  your  cell,  and,  on  condition  that  you  paid  him 
implicit  obedience  for  five  years,  offered  you  life  and  the  release 
of  your  paramour — the  woman  for  whose  sake  you  murdered 
your  father." 

"  Poor  Caterina  I  ^  sighed  Antonio.  "  To  think  that,  for  the 
life  of  a  babe  not  a  day  old,  she  should  be  imprisoned  for  five 
years!" 

•*  Why,  then,  did  she  murder  it  ?"  asked  Strozzi. 

"  To  save  herself  from  the  vengeance  of  her  husband,  ex- 
cellenza. But  I— I  have  kept  my  word,  and  have  served  you 
faithfully,  have  I  not  ?" 


-268  PKINCE   EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

"  Yes — you  are  a  tolerably  submissive  bound,"  said  Strozzi, 
scornfully.     "  How  long  before  your  bondage  ceases  ? " 

"  Excellenza,  it  was  in  January,  1683,  that  you  appeared  to 
me  in  the  dress  of  a  priest,  and  saved  me  from  the  headsman. 
I  owe  you  still  one  year,  one  month,  and  twenty-six  days  of 
service." 

"  You  are  accurate — very  ;  but  mark  me  !  If  you  fail  in 
the  least  point,  the  contract  is  null.  I  neither  release  your 
Caterina  nor  you." 

"  I  am  your  slave,  and  have  no  will  but  yours." 

"  'Tis  well.     What  have  you  learned  to-day  ? " 

"As  regards  the  gracious  marchioness,  but  little.  She 
drew,  played  on  her  harp,  and  embroidered,  as  usual,  and  wrote 
a,  letter,  which  she  committed  to  the  hands  of  that  demoiselle 
Victorine,  who  gives  out  that  she  was  sent  to  her  ladyship  by 
her  friend  the  Duchess  of  Orleans." 

"  I  know — I  know.     Where  is  the  letter  ? " 

"  Here  it  is,  excellenza."  , 

The  marquis  examined  the  seal,  to  see  that  it  had  not  been 
tampered  with  by  his  underlings.  "Any  thing  further ?'' 
added  he,  raising  his  eyes  to  Antonio's  woe-begone  face. 

"Very  little,  excellenza.  The  signora  went  twice  to  the 
balcony  to  look  at  the  gondolas,  Mademoiselle  Victorine  watch- 
ing her  from  within.  The  second  time  she  went,  she  clasped 
her  hands  all  of  a  sudden,  blushed,  and  leaned  so  far  over  the 
balustrade  that  mademoiselle  made  sure  that  there  was  some- 
thing unusual  on  the  canal.  Pretending  that  she  had  some 
question  to  ask  as  to  the  signora's  dress,  she  followed,  but  the 
signora  was  so  absorbed  in  what  she  saw,  that  she  did  not  re- 
mark her  tire- woman." 

"What  was  it?"  asked  Strozzi,  breathless  with  expecta- 
tion. 

"  The  Canale  Grande  was  so  crowded  with  splendid  gon- 
dolas that  it  was  hard  to  say  what  had  attracted  the  marchion- 
ess's attention.  But  after  a  moment  or  two  of  waiting.  Made- 
moiselle Victorine  saw  that  one  of  the  gondolas  was  stationary 
just  opposite  to  the  palace." 

"  Whose  gondola  ?  Who  was  in  it  ? "  cried  Strozzi,  imperi- 
ously. 


THE  MARQUIS  STRQZZI.  269 

"  Besides  the  gondoliers,  the  gondola  contained  a  young 
man,  so  simply  dressed,  that  he  C50uld  not  have  been  anybody 
of  distinction,  for  he  wore  a  brown  doublet  with  plain  buttons. 
Mademoiselle  concluded  that  the  lying-to  of  the  gondola  was 
accidental ;  he  was  too  insignificant  to  have  interested  the  sig- 
nora." 

'•  What  do  you  think  ? "  asked  Strozzi,  eying  him  search- 
ingly. 

"  I  think  it  was  premeditated,  but  I  will  soon  find  out." 

•'  What  steps  have  you  taken  to — ?  But  no  I — go  on — go 
on.     What  took  place  afterward  ? " 

*'  Nothing,  excellenza  ;  for  after  this  gondola,  came  that  of 
my  lord  the  marquis,  and  the  signora  retreated  hastily  to  her 
room." 

"  Ah  I— Now  tell  me  what  you  have  done  ? " 

''  I  posted  one  of  my  men,  with  his  gondola,  under  the  bal- 
cony. He  is  to  remain  there,  watching  every  gondola  that 
passes  both  by  day  and  by  night.  I  have  stationed  men  at 
every  entrance  of  the  palace,  who  are  to  give  admittance  to  all 
who  present  themselves  ;  but  who  are  to  require  the  names  and 
business  of  all  who  leave.  Even  those  who  are  in  your  ex- 
cellency's pay  are  to  be  searched — for  example,  Mademoiselle 
Victorine." 

"  You  are  a  well-trained  dog,"  laughed  Strozzi.  *'  I  really 
believe  that  I  will  have  to  set  you  and  your  child-murderess 
free,  some  of  these  days.  Go,  now,  and  bring  me  word  who 
was  in  that  gondola." 

Antonio  resumed  his  mask,  and  disappeared  through  the 
doop,  which  closed,  and  left  no  trace  upon  the  wall. 

At  this  moment,  there  was  a  knock  at  the  door  of  the 
antechamber,  and  a  woman^s  voice  was  heard,  asking  admis- 
don. 

**  Lucretia  1 "  said  Strozzi,  rising  and  imdoing  the  bolt. 

A  lady  entered  the  room.  She  was  enveloped  from  head 
to  foot  in  a  veil  of  costly  Venetian  guipure,  fastened  to  the 
braids  of  her  raven-black  hair  by  two  large  brilliants.  Her 
face  had  been  concealed  by  the  veil,  but,  as  the  door  closed 
behind  her,  she  threw  it  back,  and  exposed  to  view  a  counte- 
nance of  remarkable  beauty. 


270  PRINCE     EUGENE   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

"  Look  at  me,  Ottario,"  said  she.  "  Tell  me  candidly — am 
I  handsome  enough  to  bewitch  our  guests,  those  princely  bears 
of  Germany  ? " 

The  marquis  surveyed  her  critically,  just  as  a  painter  might 
examine  a  fine  picture.  He  looked  at  her  pale,  pearly  skin, 
her  scarlet  lips,  her  delicately-chiselled  nose,  and  her  low,  wide 
forehead,  so  like  that  of  the  Capitoline  Venus.  Then  he  gazed 
into  her  dark,  flashing  eyes,  at  once  so  languishing  and  so  pas- 
sionate, with  the  beautiful  arched  eyebrows  that  gave  such  fin- 
ish to  their  splendor.  The  black  hair,  like  a  frame  of  ebony, 
surrounded  the  face,  and  brought  out  the  graceful  oval  of  her 
cheeks.  Strozzi  then  followed  the  luxurious  outline  of  her 
well-developed  bust,  prisoned  in  a  bodice  of  blue  velvet,  which 
rested  on  her  white  shoulders  like  an  azure  cloud  upon  the 
bosom  of  a  snowy  mountain-peak.  The  skirt,  also  of  blue  vel- 
vet, was  short  in  front,  that  it  might  not  conceal  a  fairy  foot 
encased  in  blue  satin  slippers  ;  but,  behind,  it  fell  in  a  long 
train,  whose  rich  folds  lay  on  the  carpet,  perfecting  the  grace 
and  elegance  of  the  beautiful  living  picture. 

"  You  are  certainly  charming,"  said  Strozzi,  at  last — "  quite 
charming  enough  to  bewitch  a  dozen  German  princes,  suppos- 
ing your  husband  to  offer  no  impediment  to  the  spell." 

Here  she  drew  out  a  fan  of  coral  and  gold,  and,  opening  it 
with  a  snap,  began  to  fan  herself.  "  Caro  amico,"  said  she, 
"  you  speak  as  if  you  were  ignorant  of  the  character  and  vir- 
tues of  Count  Canossa,  when  you  yourself  are  the  very  trades- 
man that  sold  me  to  him." 

"You  use  very  strong  expressions,  Lucretia." 

"Do  I?  Not  stronger  than  are  warranted  by  the  transac- 
tion. You  sold  me  to  him  to  rid  yourself  of  your  mother's 
dying  charge,  and  you  did  it,  although  you  knew  him  to  be  a 
man  so  depraved  that  nothing  on  earth  was  sacred  in  his  eyes 
— not  even  the  Aortue  of  his  wife." 

"  Why,  that,"  replied  the  marquis  significantly,  "  is  so  much 
the  better  for  you." 

"  You  mean  that  otherwise  he  would  not  have  married  me  ?" 
asked  Lucretia. 

"  I  mean  that  he  would  have  examined  more  carefully  into 
the  truth  of  the  rumor  which  accused  the  sister  of  the  Strozzi 


THE  MARQUIS  STROZZL  271 

of  having  a  liaison  with  a  gondolier  ;  of  having  fled  with  him 
to  Padua,  and  of  having  been  caught  and  brought  back  to 
Venice,  while  her  patrician  lover  was  sent  to  the  galleys." 

"I  wish  he  had  done  so/'  was  the  reply,  "and  then  you 
would  have  been  compelled  to  save  my  honpr  by  allowing  me 
to  marry  Giuseppe.  Do  not  laugh  so  heartlessly,  Ottario.  I 
loved  him  not  only  because  of  his  manly  beauty,  but  because 
he  was  honorable  and  worthy  of  a  woman's  purest  love.  His 
only  fault  was  that  of  having  loved  me.  You  sent  him  to  the 
galleys  ;  and  I — I,  too,  have  been  condemned  to  the  galleys, 
and  chained  to  a  felon  for  life.  Well  I  know  that  he  covered 
my  indiscretions  with  his  name  for  a  stipulated  sum,  which 
my  generous  brother  paid  to  save  my  reputation,  and  he  gam- 
bled it  away  before  the  expiration  of  a  year.  Our  palace  re- 
sembles a  ship  that  has  been  visited  by  corsairs.  It  contains 
nothing  but  a  pile  of  lumber,  for  which  not  even  a  pawnbroker 
would  give  a  bajocco.  Were  it  not  for  your  alms,  the  Countess 
Canossa  would  starve." 

"  Alms,  call  you  my  gifts  ? "  said  Strozzi,  casting  his  eyes 
over  her  rich  toilet.  "They  dress  you  up  handsomely,  me- 
thinks." 

"But  there  they  end,"  objected  the  countess.  "I  have 
neither  lackeys  nor  diamonds,  neither  gondola  nor  gondolier, 
and  my  saloons  are  so  shabby  that  I  can  receive  no  company 
at  home.    You  give  me  as  little  as  decency  permits." 

"If  I  gave  you  diamonds,  our  dear  Canossa  would  steal 
them  ;  and  if  I  furnished  your  parlors,  he  would  gamble  away 
the  furniture  in  a  night." 

"You  know  the  worth  of  the  husband  you  selected  for 
your  mother's  child,  and  doubtless  you  had  your  own  private 
reasons  for  sacrificing  her  to  such  a  man.  His  worth lessness, 
«oo,  furnishes  an  excuse  for  your  niggardly  allowance  to  me. 
The  very  dresses  I  wear  are  the  price  of  dishonor.  I  often  feel 
ashamed  of  the  part  I  play  toward  your  wife,  Ottario,  and  I 
know  not  but  some  day  I  may  throw  myself  at  her  feet  and 
acknowledge  my  treachery." 

"  If  you  do,  your  acknowledgment  will  be  forthwith  con- 
veyed to  my  cars,  and  the  doors  of  the  palace  Strozzi  will  be 
closed  to  you  forever." 


272  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

"  I  know  it,"  sighed  the  countess  ;  "  and  the  fear  of  this  ex- 
pulsion binds  me  to  your  wicked  will." 

"  Never  mind  what  binds  you,  so  you  serve  with  fidelity  ; 
and,  above  all  things,  I  charge  you  to  be  watchful  during  the 
coming  week.  I  will  not  be  able  to  keep  my  wife  much 
longer  from  participation  in  the  social  pleasures  of  Ven- 
ice." 

"  Why  not  ?  You  have  spread  a  report  of  her  insanity,  and 
nobody  will  ever  give  a  thought  to  her  absence." 

"  But  she  may  desire  to  witness  the  carnival  herself." 

*'  How  so  ?  when  she  has  invariably  refused  to  be  presented 
to  any  one  as  your  wife  ? " 

"  She  might  change  her  mind,  and  claim  her  right  to  be 
presented  to  the  doge  and  dogessa.  She  may  wish  to  take  part 
in  the  carnival,  because  of  a  fancy  for  some  foreign  prince  !— 
Great  God  I  when  I  think  of  such  a  possibility,"  cried  Strozzi, 
interrupting  himself,  "  I  feel  as  though  I  were  going  mad  for 
jealousy  I " 

"  Poor  fellow  ! "  said  Lucretia,  "  I  pity  you.  You  live  with 
a  perpetual  dagger  in  your  heart." 

"  And  it  will  kill  me  unless  you  are  loyal  to  your  oflBce, 
Lucretia.  Promise  me  to  watch  this  woman  closely.  Lis- 
ten to  me. — She  may  wish  to  go  out,  and  if  she  does,  it 
is  quite  natural  that  you,  as  well  as  I,  should  accompany 
her.  Swear  that  wheresoever  you  may  be  together,  you 
will  not  for  one  moment  quit  her  side,  or  take  your  eyes  off 
her  person." 

*'  For  what  do  you  take  me,  pray  ?  Do  you  suppose  that  I 
attend  the  carnival  to  yawn  at  the  side  of  your  wife  ?  or  do 
you  imagine  that  such  eyes  as  mine  were  made  for  nothing 
better  than  to  stare  at  a  woman  ? " 

''  You  will  have  as  much  opportunity  as  you  can  desire  to 
use  them  to  your  own  advantage,  Lucretia,  for  Laura  will  not 
go  out  often." 

"  What  will  you  give  me  in  return  for  my  self-denial  ? " 

"  If  the  carnival  passes  off  without  misadventure,  I  will  buy 
you  a  splendid  gondola,  with  two  gondoliers  dressed  all  in 
silk." 

"  Give  them  to  me  now,  and  if  I  neglect  my  duty,  then  take 


THE  MARQUIS  STROZZI.  275 

them  back.     But  do — do  give  them  to  me  to  use  during  th& 
carnival." 

"Very  well,  you  shall  have  them  to-morrow  morning. 
And  you  swear  that  my  wife  shall  neither  give  her  hand  nor 
speak  to  any  man  in  Venice,  and  that  you  will  report  her  very 
glances  to  me  ? " 

"  I  swear  to  guard  your  golden  apple  like  a  good  dragon. 
And  to-morrow  I  shall  join  the  great  regatta,"  added  she^ 
clapping  her  hands  like  a  petted  child.  "  Now,  Ottario,  listen 
to  me — I  have  just  come  from  your  wife's  apartments  with 
news  for  you." 

"  What  is  it  ? "  gasped  Strozzi,  clutching  at  the  arms  of  his 
chair. 

"  The  beautiful  Laura  is  no  longer  the  cold  vestal  that  came 
to  Venice  as  your  wife.  Her  eye  is  bright,  her  cheek  is  flushed, 
her  lips  are  parted  with  womanly  longing.  I  congratulate 
you  upon  the  change.  Your  love  has  at  last  awakened  a  cor- 
responding sentiment,  and  now  is  your  time  to  woo  and  win. 
I  came  hither  to  tell  you  this  and  make  you  happy.  Do  not 
forget  my  gondola  1    Addio,  caro  amico,  addio  1 " 

She  Idssed  the  tips  of  her  rosy  fingers,  and  then,  coquettish- 
ly  drawing  her  veil  around  her  shoulders,  she  bounded  off  like 
a  gazelle,  through  the  corridors  of  the  palace. 

"  I  wish  I  had  your  frivolity,"  murmured  her  brother,  sink- 
ing back  upon  the  cushions  of  his  divan.  "  I  would  that  love, 
for  me,  were  but  the  episode  of  the  hour  ! — But  hark  1 — twelve 
o'clock — the  hour  for  my  visit  to  her  who  is  at  once  the  bless- 
ing and  the  curse  of  my  life  1 " 

He  was  about  to  quit  the  room,  when  he  heard  a  rustling 
at  the  secret  door.  "  Come  in,"  said  he,  and  the  mask  re-en- 
tered the  room. 

"  You,  Antonio  1  Already  returned  ? "  asked  Strozzi,  sur- 
prised. 

"Yes,  excellenza,  I  know  the  name  of  the  young  man 
in  the  gondola  which  stopped  before  the  palace  this  morn- 
ing." 

Strozzi  was  too  much  agitated  to  speak.  He  signed  to  the 
man  to  go  on. 

"  It  was  Prince  Eugene  of  Savoy.     He  arrived  in  Venice 


274  PRINCE   EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

yesterday,  and  has  taken  the  little  Palazzo  Capello,  next  to  the 
Palazzo  Manfredino,  which  since  this  morning  is  occupied  by 
the  Elector  of  Bavaria." 

Strozzi  was  now  as  pale  as  a  corpse  ;  his  brow  darkened, 
and  his  limbs  trembled  so  that  he  was  obliged  to  sit  down.  He 
mastered  his  agitation  as  well  as  he  could,  and  resumed  his 
questionings. 

"  You  are  quite  sure,  Antonio  ? " 

''  Perfectly  sure,  excellenza." 

"  And  yet  the  Prince  of  Savoy  is  not  among  the  invited  ?" 

"  He  came  alone.  The  Marquis  de  Villars  had  rented  the 
Palazzo  Capello  for  himself,  but  he  has  given  it  up  to  Prince 
Eugene,  and  has  accepted  the  invitation  of  the  elector  to  occu- 
py a  suite  on  the  ground  floor  of  the  Palazzo  Manfredino.  The 
Prince  of  Savoy  and  the  elector  are  intimate  friends  ;  for  no 
sooner  had  the  former  arrived,  than  he  left  his  address  at  the 
Palazzo  Manfredino  ;  and  the  latter  had  not  been  here  an  hour 
before  he  was  at  the  hotel  of  the  White  Lion,  where  Prince 
Eugene  had  taken  lodgings.  By  noon,  the  elector  had  obtained 
the  relinquishment  of  the  Palazzo  Capello  for  the  prince,  and 
the  Marquis  de  Villars  had  taken  up  his  quarters  at  the  Pa- 
lazzo Manfredino." 

"  From  whom  did  you  learn  all  these  details  ? " 

"  From  one  of  the  gondoliers  that  rowed  Prince  Eugene 
this  morning,  my  half-brother  Beppo.  '  Whither  shall  I  row 
you,  excellenza  ? '  asked  he.  *  Anywhere,'  said  the  prince,  in 
excellent  Italian,  'but  take  me  to  see  your  famous  palaces.' 
'  The  Foscari,  for  example  ? '  inquired  Beppo.  '  Yes,  and  the 
Strozzi,  which,  I  am  told,  is  one  of  the  finest  residences  in 
Venice.'  So  they  rowed  to  the  Strozzi  palace,  and  there  the 
prince  bade  Beppo  stop  for  ever  so  long  a  time.  The  prince 
will  spend  the  entire  carnival  here.  He  has  bought  a  gondola, 
and  his  secretary  is  on  the  lookout  for  gondoliers,  an  Italian 
valet,  and  a  commissionnaire." 

"You  will  offer  yourself  as  his  commissionnaire,  then," 
said  Strozzi,  with  a  sinister  scowl.  "  And  be  sure  you  get  the 
place — do  you  hear  ? " 

Antonio  bowed,  and  the  marquis  continued  :  "  In  fifteen 
minutes  return  to  me,  and  meanwhile — begone  I" 


LAURA.  275 

Without  a  word  of  reply  Antonio  disappeared  ;  Strozzi 
pressed  down  into  the  wall  the  spring  by  which  the  door  was 
opened,  and  then,  taking  up  his  plumed  hat,  betook  himself 
to  the  apartments  of  his  wife. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

LAURA. 

She  lay  half  buned  in  the  yellow  satin  cushions  of  a  soft 
ottoman.  Her  large,  dreamy  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  ceiling, 
whereon  gi-oups  of  flying  Cupids  were  pelting  one  another 
with  roses.  Her  lips  were  parted  with  a  happy  smile,  her  fair 
brow  was  serene  and  cloudless,  and  her  cheeks  were  tinged 
with  a  faint  flush  like  that  of  the  rose  that  is  kissed  by  the  first 
beams  of  the  rising  sun.  She  was  the  same  beautiful,  spirited, 
hopeful  being  that  had  lived  and  loved  in  the  pavilion  of  the 
Palais  Royal. 

She  lay  dreaming  and  smiling,  smiling  and  dreaming, 
when  the  velvet  portiere  that  opened  into  her  boudoir  was 
drawn  aside  to  give  entrance  to  the  Marquis  de  Strozzi.  Yes- 
terday his  visit  had  been  a  martyrdom  to  Laura  ;  to-day  she 
was  indifferent  to  it :  she  was  far  beyond  its  influence,  nor  did 
she  acknowledge  it  by  so  much  as  a  glance. 

But  when  he  stood  directly  before  her,  and  would  have 
stooped  to  kiss  her  hand,  she  withdrew  it  with  a  gesture  of 
aversion,  although  her  countenance  yet  beamed  with  happi- 


Tht3  marquis  saw  that  she  was  excited,  and  he  frowned. 
**You  seem  in  good  spirits  to-day,  Marchioness  de  Strozzi," 
said  he,  moodily. 

"I  am  indeed  in  good  spirits  when  I  can  endure  your  pres- 
ence with  tranquillity,  nor  start  at  the  sound  of  a  title  which 
is  not  mine.    I  am  not  the  Marchioness  de  Strozzi." 

"I  do  not  know  how  that  can  be,  when  you  are  indubitably 
my  wedded  wife." 

"  No,  no,  I  am  no  wedded  wife  of  yours,  nor  am  I  bound  to 


276  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

you  by  the  lying  vows  that  gave  me  into  yoiu*  keeping.  For 
three  years,  I  have  endeavored  to  make  you  understand  this, 
but  you  are  singularly  obtuse." 

"  I  can  never  be  made  to  understand  that  the  woman  who, 
in  presence  ^f  her  father  and  brother,  promised  to  be  unto  me 
a  faithful  wife,  is  not  my  true  and  lawful  spouse." 

"  My  vows  were  not  for  you  ;  they  were  made  to  another.'^ 

"  Nay — I  can  show  your  signature  to  the  contract,  and  the 
pope  himself  cannot  undo  our  marriage." 

"  Our  marriage  ! "  exclaimed  she,  haughtUy.  "  There  is  no 
marriage  between  you  and  me,  and  be  assured  that  there  never 
will  be.  I  would  sooner  die  than  become  your  wife.  Hear 
me,"  continued  she,  passionately.  "  If  I  thought  that  I  was 
indeed  bound  to  you,  I  would — ay  !  I  believe  that  I  would 
conunit  the  crime  of  suicide.  Could  you  convince  me  that  the 
hand  which  received  your  accursed  ring  was  indeed  yours,  I 
would  gather  up  all  my  strength  of  hate  to  strike  it  off,  and 
dash  it  in  your  face." 

''  Great  God  I  And  I  love  you  to  madness  ! "  cried  he^ 
throwing  himself  on  his  knees,  and  clasping  her  hands  so  con- 
vulsively that  all  her  writhings  could  not  release  them.  "  I 
love  you,  I  love  you,  and  am  doomed  to  love  you,  albeit  your 
cruelty  is  driving  me  to  madness  I " 

"  'Tis  the  punishment  of  your  crime  toward  me,"  answered 
Laura,  coldly.  "  You  have  sinned  against  love,  and  God  ha& 
punished  you  through  love  that  shall  be  forever  unrequited. 
Accept  your  fate,  and  be  resigned." 

"  I  cannot  do  it,  Laura,  I  cannot  do  it  I  My  love  for  you 
is  like  a  deadly  poison  that  sets  my  blood  on  fire.  It  must  be 
requited,  or  I  shall  die  a  maniac.    Oh,  have  pity  I  have  pity  I" 

"  Pity  for  you  !  "  said  she,  contemptuously. 

"  Look  at  me,"  cried  he,  imploringly.  "  For  once  in  your 
life,  Laura,  turn  your  eyes  upon  me  without  hate,  and  see  how 
love  has  corroded  my  very  life.  Three  years  ago  I  was  a 
happy  man — to-day  I  am  not  yet  thirty,  and  my  hair  is  gray, 
and  my  face  wrinkled.  Life  has  no  charms  for  me,  and  yet  I 
am  too  cowardly  to  die,  and  leave  you  to  another.  Oh,  Laura, 
look  at  me,  and  be  merciful !  Deliver  me  from  the  hell  in 
which  your  hatred  has  plunged  me  I " 


LAURA.  277 

"Nay — your  sufFerings  are  the  purgatorial  fires  whereby 
you  may  perchance  be  purified  from  the  guilt  of  your  treach- 
ery toward  an  innocent  girl.  Marquis  de  Strozzi,  now  look  at 
me.  Am  I,  too,  changed  since  three  years  of  misery  unspeak- 
able?" 

'*  No,"  sighed  he,  "you  are  as  beautiful  and  youthful  as  you 
were  when  first  I  saw  you  in  Paris." 

"  You  are  right,"  replied  she.  **  I  am  altered  neither  in  ap- 
pearance nor  in  heart.  And  do  you  know  why  ?  It  is  because 
Hope — ^bright-eyed  Hope  has  sat  day  and  night  by  my  side, 
whispering  sweet  words  of  encouragement,  bidding  me  be  firm  ; 
imparting  to  me  strength  to  endure  the  present,  and  to  enjoy 
the  future.  I  feel  it  in  my  soul  that  he  will  come  sooner  or 
later  to  liberate  me  from  my  bondage." 

"  If  he  ever  comes,  I  will  murder  him  ! "  hissed  Strozzi. 

"  You  will  try,  but  you  will  not  succeed.  God  protects  him^ 
and  he  wears  the  invisible  armor  of  my  love  to  shield  him 
from  your  hate." 

"  Very  well.  Pray  for  him  if  you  will ;  but,  as  sure  as  I 
live,  I  will  find  his  vulnerable  heel ! " 

As  he  said  this,  Laura  turned  pale,  and  Strozzi  remarked 
her  pallor  with  a  malicious  pleasure.  "  Ah  !  your  faith  is  not 
strong  !  My  poisoned  arrows  will  find  the  flaw,  and  upon  him 
shall  be  avenged  every  pang  that  you  have  inflicted  upon  my 
bleeding  heart.  You  know  that  he  is  here — I  see  it  by  your 
altered  demeanor." 

'*  Yes,  yes,  I  know  it." 

"  Be  not  too  overjoyed  thereat ;  for  the  daggers  of  my 
bravoes  are  keen  and  sure,  and  the  lagoons  are  deep,  and  give 
not  up  their  dead." 

"  You  would  not  sully  your  soul  with  secret  murder  1 "  ex- 
claimed Laura,  shuddering. 

"  That  would  I.  He  is  my  rival,  and  he  shall  be  put  out  of 
my  way— that  is  all." 

"  No — that  is  not  all.  You  dare  not  murder  a  prince,  a  hero 
upon  whom  the  eyes  of  all  Europe  are  fixed  in  admiration. 
Such  a  man  as  he  is  not  to  be  put  out  of  the  way  with  impunity. 
Were  you  to  murder  Eugene  of  Savoy,  know  that  I  myself 
would  be  your  accuser ;  and  your  uncle,  the  doge  himself,  is 


278  PRINCE  EUGENE   AND   HIS  TIMES. 

not  powerful   enough  to  save  your  head  from  the  execu- 
tioner." 

"  What  care  I  for  the  executioner's  axe,  who  for  three  years 
have  been  stretched  upon  the  rack  of  your  aversion  ?  So  I 
make  sure  that  he  has  gone  before  me — so  I  have  the  sweet  re- 
venge of  sending  him  to  Tartarus,  what  care  I  how  soon  I  fol- 
low him  thither  ? " 

"  You  are  a  monster  ! "  exclaimed  Laura. 

"  I  am  the  work  of  your  hands,"  replied  Strozzi.  "  If  I  am 
a  monster,  my  perdition  be  upon  your  head.  And  now,  mark 
me  I  I  came  hither  to  have  one  decisive  interview  with  you. 
Prince  Eugene  is  in  Venice  ;  you  are  aware  of  it,  for  you  sent 
him  a  greeting  from  your  balcony  this  morning,  as  his  gon- 
dola lay  in  front  of  the  palace." 

"  Your  spies  are  vigilant,"  said  she. 

"  Yes,  they  serve  me  well,  and  they  are  ubiquitous.  They 
mark  each  smile  and  report  every  tear  that  tells  of  silent  joy 
or  grief  upon  your  face.  They  are  with  you  when  you  pray  ; 
they  watch  you  while  you  sleep,  so  that  your  very  dreams  are 
not  your  own.  Now  you  are  my  wife,  howsoever  you  may 
protest  against  the  name,  and  you  shall  not  sully  that  name, 
be  assured  of  it.  If,  by  word  or  look,  by  movement  or  sign, 
you  allow  Prince  Eugene  to  suppose  that  you  recognize  him^ 
he  shall  expiate  your  disobedience  to  my  will  by  death.  I  am 
afraid  that  you  do  not  believe  me  ;  you  think  that  I  make  a 
mere  threat  to  terrify  you  into  submission.     Is  it  so  ? " 

"  Yes,  marquis,  it  is  so.  You  are  treacherous  and  cruel ;  but, 
abhor  you  as  I  may  for  the  misery  you  have  inflicted  upon  me, 
I  do  believe  you  to  be  one  degree  above  a  bravo.  You  are  not 
a  coward — you  would  not  consent  to  be  an  assassin." 

"You  flatter  your  keeper,  that  you  may  disarm  him." 

"  No  ;  I  speak  the  truth.  I  hate,  but  do  not  despise  you  to 
such  a  degree  as  to  believe  your  threats." 

"  So  much  the  worse  for  you.  I  would  enjoy  the  privilege 
of  plunging  a  dagger  into  his  heart  with  my  own  hands  ;  but 
I  must  deny  myself  that  satisfaction.  It  is  safer  to  employ  a 
bravo,  and  to  pay  him.  You  know  how  dearly  I  loved  my 
mother,  do  you  not  ? " 

"Yes,  I  have  heard  of  it  from  your  sister." 


LAUKA.  27^ 

"Well — that  portrait  hanging  over  your  divan  is  my 
mother's.  Doubtless,  had  you  known  it,  you  would  have  ban- 
ished it  from  the  walls  of  your  boudoir  for  hatred  of  her  son.'* 

*'  I  have  all  along  known  that  it  was  your  mother.  But  I 
loved  my  own  too  deeply  ever  to  offer  disrespect  to  yours.  I 
have  often  raised  my  imploring  eyes  to  that  mild  face,  and 
have  poured  out  to  her  spirit  my  plaint  of  her  son's  cruelty." 

"Eaise  your  eyes  to  it  again,  then,  and  inform  her  that  it 
rests  with  you  whether  her  son  shall  become  an  assassin  or 
not.  For,  by  my  mother's  soul,  I  swear  that,  if  ever  there 
comes  to  pass  the  most  trifling  interchange  of  thought  between. 
Prince  Eugene  and  the  Marcbioness  de  Strozzi,  he  shall  die — 
die,  if  I  have  to  expiate  the  deed  upon  the  scaffold  I  Do  you 
believe  me  now  ?  " 

"'  I  must  believe  you,"  returned  Laura,  sickening  with  dis- 
gust. "  But  while  conviction  despoils  you  of  the  last  claim  I 
supposed  you  to  possess  to  the  name  of  a  man,  it  does  not  ter- 
rify me  for  the  life  you  would  destroy.  God,  who  has  pro- 
tected him  on  the  field  of  battle — God,  who  has  created  him 
*  to  give  the  world  assurance  of  a  man ' — God,  who  is  the  shield 
of  the  pure,  the  brave,  the  virtuous,  will  not  suffer  the  Prince 
of  Savoy  to  fall  under  the  dagger  of  your  hired  bravi ! " 

**  Nous  verrons. — And  now,  signora,  let  us  speak  of  other 
things.  The  carnival  this  year  is  to  be  of  unusual  splendor  ; 
a  number  of  foreigners  of  distinction  have  visited  Venice  to 
witness  it.  Lucretia,  without  doubt,  has  apprised  you  of  all 
this?" 

"She  has." 

"  So  I  presumed  ;  for  Lucretia  is  fond  of  gossip.  She  would 
gladly  induce  you  to  go  into  society,  knowing  that  a  woman 
of  your  beauty  and  extreme  youth  cannot  appear  in  the  world 
alone,  and  that  she  would  naturally  be  the  person  to  accom- 
pany you.    Would  you  like  to  see  the  regatta  ? " 

This  proposal  terrified  Laura,  for  she  comprehended  that 
he  was  in  earnest  when  he  threatened  Eugene's  life.  The 
marquis  read  her  thoughts,  and  replied  to  them. 

"  I  shall  shun  no  occasion  whatever  that  may  justify  me  in 
keeping  the  oath  you  heard  me  take  a  while  ago.  And,  there- 
fore, you  are  welcome  to  appear  at  the  regatta.  The  doge  will 
1» 


280  PRINCE  EUGENR  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

be  there  in  the  Bucentaur,  attended  by  all  the  court.  As  you 
liave  refused  to  be  presented  as  my  wife,  you  cannot  take  your 
proper  place  among  the  ladies  of  rank.  But  it  is  not  too  late. 
If  you  wish,  I  can  present  you  to-day." 

"  No — no,"  cried  Laura,  "I  do  not  wish  it." 

"  Then  perhaps  you  would  like  to  go  incognita.  It  will  be 
many  years  before  another  such  regatta  is  seen  in  Venice." 

"  True,  I  would  like  to  see  the  sight,"  said  the  poor  young 
victim.  And  to  herself  she  added :  "  I  might  perchance  see 
^im." 

"  Be  it  so,  then,  signora  ;  your  wishes  are  my  commands." 

"  But  I  would  like  to  see  without  being  seen,"  added  she. 

"  Indeed  ! "  exclaimed  Strozzi,  with  a  wicked  sneer.  "  Then 
I  will  see  that  your  gondola  is  closely  curtained.  Will  you 
allow  me  the  honor  of  accompanying  you  ? " 

"  As  if  I  were  free  to  refuse,"  said  Laura,  with  quivering  lip. 

"  One  thing  more,"  said  the  marquis.  "  It  is  the  custom  for 
all  who  join  in  the  festivities  of  the  carnival  to  appear  in  a 
costume  of  some  foregone  century.  May  I  commission  my  sis- 
ter to  select  yours  ? " 

''  I  would  like  to  select  for  myself." 

The  marquis  bowed  his  head.  ""  As  you  please.  The  trades' 
men  of  Venice  will  be  delighted  at  last  to  have  a  look  at  th^ 
beautiful  wife  of  the  Strozzi." 

Laura  shrank  visibly.  "  I  will  not  go,"  said  she.  '*  Let  the 
Countess  Canossa  select  my  costume.  It  matters  little  to  me  i 
but  be  so  good  as  to  see  that  the  gondola  is  well  curtained." 

"  I  will  not  forget  it,"  answered  the  marquis,  as  he  bowe^ 
and  left  the  room. 

Laura's  eyes  followed  him  until  he  had  crossed  her  whole 
«uite,  and  had  closed  the  door  behind  him.  Then,  yielding  to 
the  bliss  of  being  left  a  few  moments  alone,  she  opened  her 
arms,  and,  kneeling  before  her  prie-dieu,  poured  out  her  heart 
in  prayer  to  Heaven  for  Eugene's  safety.  Then,  throwing 
herself  again  upon  the  divan,  she  began  to  dream.  She  saw 
her  gondola  approaching  his  ;  she  saw  her  lover — her  spouse, 
and  made  one  rapid  movement  of  her  hand.  His  gondola 
touched  hers  ;  she  flung  aside  the  curtains  and  leaped  into  the 
boat  with  him. 


LAURA.  281 

But  as  she  dreamed,  there  floated  over  the  water  the  sound 
of  song.  This  was  no  unusual  sound  on  the  Canale  Grande, 
but  the  music  was  not  Italian  ;  it  was  no  languishing  barca- 
i^olle,  such  as  Venetian  lovers  were  wont  to  sing  to  their  mis- 
tresses ;  the  air  was  foreign— the  words  were  French.  She 
heard  them  distinctly  ;  they  were  the  words  of  her  own,  dear^ 
native  language  I 

'*  It  is  he  !  "  cried  she,  springing  out  upon  the  balcony. 

Yes,  it  was  he  ;  he  had  called  her  with  an  old  familiar  air, 
and,  while  he  looked  up  in  rapture,  the  music  went  on,  for  the 
singers  were  in  a  gondola  that  followed. 

Laura  was  so  wild  with  joy  that  she  forgot  the  marquis,  his 
spies,  and  his  threats.  Snatching  the  first  bouquet  that  pre- 
sented itself,  she  made  an  attempt  to  throw  it  to  her  lover.  But 
she  had  not  calculated  the  distance,  and  it  fell  far  short  of  its 
destination. 

"  An  evil  omen,"  murmured  she,  and  then  she  remembered 
the  horrible  threat  of  the  marquis.  She  gave  one  ejaculation 
of  terror,  and  bounded  back  into  her  boudoir. 

About  fifteen  minutes  later,  Strozzi  entered  the  room.  In 
his  hand  he  held  a  bouquet  of  beautiful  roses,  which  he  pre- 
sented with  mock  courtesy. 

"  Signora,  you  were  so  imfortunate  as  to  drop  your  bou- 
quet in  the  lagoon  not  long  ago.  The  mermaids  will  be  glad 
to  receive  so  fair  a  gift  from  so  fair  a  hand.  Allow  me  to  re- 
place it." 

"  On  the  contrary,  I  must  request  you  to  take  your  roses 
away  from  my  boudoir.  I  do  not  like  the  odor  of  flowers,  and 
I  threw  mine  into  the  water  because  their  perfume  oppressed 
me.  I  regret  that  you  should  have  taken  so  much  useless 
trouble." 

**  And  I  beg  pardon  for  interrupting  your  reveries,"  said 
Strozzi,  with  a  sarcastic  smile,  as  he  bowed  and  retired  with 
his  bouquet. 

'*  Gracious  Heaven,  I  was  watched  1  Am  I,  then,  given 
over  to  enemies,  and  is  there  not  one  being  here  that  I  can 
trust?" 

At  this  moment  a  door  opened,  and  a  young  girl  entered 
the  room.    "  Victorine  I "  exclaimed  Laura,  joyfully,  "  come 


282  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


hither.  God  has  sent  you  to  me  to  shield  me  from  de- 
spair." 

The  girl  came  smilingly  forward,  and,  kneeling  at  her  mis- 
tress's side,  looked  affectionately  at  her,  saying  in  Laura's  own 
tongue  : 

"  What  ails  my  dear  mistress  ? " 

"  Victorine,"  replied  Laura,  gazing  earnestly  into  the  maid- 
en's eyes,  "  Victorine,  do  you  love  me  ? " 

Victorine  covered  her  hand  with  kisses,  while  she  pro- 
tested that  she  loved  her  mistress  with  all  her  heart.  "  Dear 
lady,"  said  she,  "  did  I  not  leave  Paris  for  love  of  her  whom 
her  royal  highness  cherished  as  a  daughter  ?  Was  I  not  sent 
to  you  hy  the  Duchess  of  Orleans,  that  you  might  have  one 
true  friend  among  your  troops  of  enemies  ?  And  now  that  I 
had  hoped  to  have  proved  to  my  dear  mistress  my  devotion, 
she  asks  if  I  love  her  ! " 

"  True,  Victorine,  I  have  no  right  to  doubt  your  attachment. 
And  certainly  I  have  proved  that  I  trust  you,  by  committing 
to  your  care  my  letters  to  the  duchess.  Ah,  Victorine,  when 
will  you  bring  me  an  answer  to  those  letters  ? " 

"  The  answers  cannot  have  reached  Venice  as  yet,  dear  mis- 
tress," said  Victorine,  soothingly.  "  But  I  came  to  tell  you 
something.     May  I  speak  ? "  >  , 

"  Yes — speak — speak  quickly  !  " 

Victorine  went  on  tiptoe  to  the  door,  and,  having  convinced 
herself  that  no  one  was  near,  she  came  close  to  Laura,  and 
whispered  in  her  ear :  "  Madame,  one  of  the  foreign  princes 
has  been  here  to  call  on  you." 

"  Who  ?  who  ? " 

"  Prince  Eugene  of  Savoy,"  said  Victorine,  as  though  she 
was  afraid  the  breeze  might  betray  her. 

Laura  shivered,  became  deadly  pale,  and  could  scarcely 
gather  courage  to  say,  "  He  was  refused  entrance  ? " 

"  Yes,  the  porter  told  him  that  the  marchioness  was  in  bad 
health,  and  received  no  visitors." 

"  That  was  well.  Go,  Victorine,  and  tell  the  servants  to 
convey  neither  message  nor  card  of  Prince  Eugene  of  Savoy 
to  me.     I  will  not  receive  him.     Go,  go  quickly,  and  then — " 

"  And  then  ? "  said  Victorine,  coaxingly. 


LAURA.  283 

Laura  was  silent  for  a  while  ;  then,  putting  her  arms  around 
Victorine's  neck,  she  drew  Uie  young  girl's  head  upon  her 
bosom.  "  Try  to  find  out  where  Prince  Eugene  is  staying,  and 
go  to  him.  Say  that  you  come  from  the  Marchioness  Bona- 
letta,  and  you  will  be  admitted  to  his  presence.  Now  tell  him 
word  for  word  what  I  shall  say  to  you.  '  To-morrow  the  Mar- 
chioness Bonaletta  will  attend  the  regatta.  Her  gondola  will 
be  closed,  but  whosoever  wishes  to  recognize  it  can  see  her  as 
she  descends  the  stair  and  enters  it.  Let  the  gondola  be  closely 
followed,  and  when  a  hand  holding  a  nosegay  of  roses  is  seen 
outside  the  curtain,  let  the  gondoliers  be  instructed  to  come  as 
close  as  possible  to  the  hand,  so  that  the  two  gondolas  col- 
lide. Then— let  the  prince  await  me.'  Do  you  hear,  Vic- 
torine  ? " 

"Yes,  dear  mistress,  I  hear,  and  will  report  your  words 
faithfully." 

"Tell  him  that  Venice  is  alive  with  spies  and  bravi,  and 
oh  I  bid  him  be  careful  how  he  exposes  himself  to  danger. 
Now  go  !  and  may  Heaven  bless  you  for  your  fidelity  to  a 
wretched  and  betrayed  woman  ! " 

Victorine  withdrew.  But  before  leaving  the  palace,  she 
betook  herself  to  the  cabinet  of  the  marquis,  where  they  had 
an  interview  of  some  length.  No  sooner  was  she  dismissed, 
than  she  retreated  to  her  own  room,  drew  out  a  purse  of  gold 
from  her  bosom,  chinked  its  contents,  emptied  them  out  on 
the  table,  and  counted  them  with  rapture. 

"  Ten  ducats  !  Ten  ducats  for  each  intercepted  message," 
said  she.  "  I  shall  soon  be  rich  enough  to  leave  this  abomi- 
nable marsh  of  a  Venice,  and  return  to  my  dear  Paris  ! " 

Having  locked  up  her  gold,  and  tied  the  key  of  her  chest 
around  her  neck,  she  directed  her  steps  to  the  hotel  of  Prince 
Ihigene. 


284  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

CHAPTER  V. 

THE  REGATTA. 

Prince  Eugene  was  watcliing  the  little  French  clock  on 
the  marble  mantelpiece  of  his  dressing-room,  wonderiog,  in 
his  impatience,  whether  it  ever  would  strike  the  horn*  of  twelve, 
the  hour  at  which  he  was  to  witness  the  departure  of  the 
Strozzis  for  the  regatta. 

Mademoiselle  Victorine  had  delivered  her  mistress's  mes- 
sage, and  the  heart  of  her  lover  was  once  more  bounding  with 
joy.  His  eyes  flashed  with  a  light  which,  except  on  a  day  of 
battle,  had  never  been  seen  within  their  sad  depths  since  the 
dreadful  period  of  his  parting  with  Laura.  Forgotten  was  all 
the  anguish  of  those  three  long  years  ;  forgotten  all  doubts, 
forgotten  all  fears.  She  loved  him  ;  she  was  true  to  her  vows, 
and  he  would  bear  her  away  from  her  ravisher  to  the  spouse 
that  was  hers  before  Heaven, 

But  how  long — how  unspeakably  long — the  hours  that  in- 
tervened between  him  and  happiness  !  He  was  wishing  for 
some  interruption  that  would  break  this  monotonous  waiting, 
when  the  door  opened,  and  Conrad  came  forward. 

"  My  lord,  I  have  found  a  commissionnaire  for  you  ;  one 
who  professes  to  know  Venice  and  its  golden  book  by  heart." 

"  Introduce  him  at  once  :  I  wish  to  speak  with  him." 

Conrad  opened  the  door  and  signed  to  some  one  without, 
when  the  commissionnaire  advanced  and  bowed. 

"  Why  are  you  masked  ? "  asked  the  prince,  who  remem- 
bered the  warning  which  Laura  had  sent  him  the  day  pre- 
vious. 

"  Excellenza,  every  Venetian  of  good  character  has  a  right 
to  wear  a  mask  during  the  carnival." 

"  And  every  criminal  can  take  advantage  of  the  right,"  re- 
plied Eugene.  "  Behind  a  mask  every  man  has  a  good  char- 
acter, for  nobody  knows  who  he  is." 

"  I  beg  pardon,  excellenza.  The  republican  fathers,  through 
their  sbirri,  know  every  man  in  Venice.  If  you  will  take  the 
trouble  to  look  around  you  in  the  market-place,  you  will  see 


THE  REGATTA.  285 

how  now  and  then  a  masker  is  touched  on  the  shoulder,  when 
his  mask  drops  at  once,  or  he  escapes  among  the  crowd  to 
avoid  public  exposure." 

"  Then,  I  suppose  that  a  stranger  has  no  hope  of  seeing  the 
beautiful  women  here  ? "  observed  Eugene,  smiling. 

"  Pardon  me  ;  to-day,  at  the  regatta,  no  masks  will  be 
worn,  and  your  excellency  will  see  all  the  beauty  of  Venice, 
both  patrician  and  plebeian." 

"  Why,  then,  do  you  wear  a  mask  ? " 

"I  wear  it  habitually,  having  a  fancy  to  go  about  incog- 
nito." 

"  Nevertheless,  you  must  remove  it  now,  for  I  cannot  take 
a  man  into  my  service  incognito." 

The  man  raised  his  left  hand,  withdrew  the  mask,  and  re- 
vealed to  sight  a  face  that  was  colorless  save  where  it  had  been 
marked  with  a  deep-red  scar  from  temple  to  jaw. 

"  You  are  indeed  conspicuous,  and  not  to  be  mistaken  by 
those  who  have  seen  you  once.    Whence  came  this  scar  ? " 

"  I  received  it  two  years  ago,  excellenza,  at  the  taking  of 
Prevosa." 

"  You  have  been  a  soldier,  then  ? "  asked  Eugene,  his  coun- 
tenance at  once  expressing  interest. 

*'  I  have,  indeed  ;  and  but  for  the  loss  of  my  right  hand  by 
the  sabre  of  an  infernal  Turk,  I  would  be  a  soldier  still." 

"You  have  written  the  conquests  of  the  republic  upon 
your  body,  my  friend,"  said  Eugene,  kindly.  "  But  your  mu- 
tilations are  so  many  orders  of  valor ;  they  are  the  inefface- 
able laurels  which  victory  places  on  a  brave  man's  brow." 

A  slight  flush  overspread  the  sallow  face  of  the  ex-soldier, 
and  his  eyes  sought  the  floor. 

Eugene  contemplated  him  for  several  moments  with  the 
sympathy — even  the  respect — which  a  military  man  feels 
for  extraordinary  bravery,  as  attested  by  such  wounds  as 
these. 

"  With  what  manner  of  weapon  were  you  cut  in  the  face  ? " 
said  he.    "  Not  with  a  sabre,  for  the  scar  is  curved." 

"  It  was  not  a  sabre-cut,  excellenza,"  replied  the  man,  in  a 
low,  tremulous  voice.  *'  I  was  in  the  breech,  fighting  hand  to 
hand  with  a  Turk,  whom  I  had  just  overthrown.    While  I  was 


286  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

stooping  over  his  prostrate  body,  lie  drew  forth  a  yataghan 
and  gashed  my  face  as  you  see." 

"  I  knew  it  was  a  dagger-thrust,"  replied  Eugene.  "  Well, 
this  scar  shall  he  your  best  recommendation  to  me,  for  I,  too, 
am  a  soldier. " 

"  Excellenza,  I  thank  you,  but  I  have  other  and  weighty 
recommendations  from  my  employers.  Moreover,  here  Is  my 
license  as  commissionnaire  from  the  Signiory." 

So  saying,  he  would  have  handed  the  prince  a  document 
with  a  large  seal  appended  to  it,  but  Eugene  waved  it  away. 

"  I  prefer  the  license  to  serve  that  is  written  on  your  body, 
my  friend.  You  have  been  a  brave  soldier,  you  will  therefore 
be  a  faithful  servant.  You  say  that  you  are  well  acquainted 
with  Venice  ? " 

"  Ay,  indeed,  signor  ;  I  know  every  palace  and  every  den, 
every  nobleman  and  every  bravo,  in  Venice." 

"  You  are,  then,  the  very  man  I  need.  Make  your  terms 
with  my  secretary.  But  be  loyal  to  me,  and  remember  that 
the  scar  you  had  received  in  your  country's  service  was  the 
only  recommendation  I  required  \  hen  I  took  you  into  mine." 

"  Excellenza  !  "  exclaimed  the  man,  kneehng,  and  raising 
the  prince's  doublet  to  his  lips,  '  I  will  bear  it  in  mind,  and 
serve  you  faithfully." 

"  I  believe  you,  my  brave  !    Else  and  tell  me  your  name." 

"Antonio,  signor." 

"  Antonio. — Well,  Antonio,  you  accompany  me  to  the  re- 
gatta to-day." 

*'  My  lord,"  said  Conrad,  entering  the  room,  "  your  gon- 
dola is  below,  and  his  highness  the  Elector  of  Bavaria  is 
here." 

A  deep  flush  of  joy  overspread  Eugene's  countenance  as  he 
advanced  to  welcome  his  friend.  Max  Emmanuel  had  chosen 
the  gorgeous  costume  of  a  Russian  boyar.  His  dress  was  of 
dark-blue  velvet,  bordered  with  sables,  and  buttoned  up  to  the 
throat  with  immense  brilliants.  On  his  head  he  wore  a  Rus- 
sian cap,  with  a  heron's  plume  fastened  in  front  by  a  rosette  of 
opals  and  diamonds. 

Eugene  surveyed  him  with  undisguised  admiration.  "  You 
are  as  gloriously  handsome  as  a  Grecian  demigod,"  cried  he, 


THE  REGATTA.  287 

enthusiastically.     "  I  pity  the  lovely  women  of  Venice  to-day, 
when  they  come  within  sight  of  the  hero  of  Buda." 

"I  absolve  them  all  from  tribute  except  one,"  returned 
Max. 

"  What  1    In  love  already  !  " 

*'  My  dear  young  friend,  I  saw  yesterday  on  a  balcony  a 
black-haired  beauty  far  beyond  peri  or  houri  of  my  imagina- 
tion I — majestic  as  Juno,  voluptuous  as  Venus,  with  eyes  that 
maddened,  and  smile  that  ravished  me.  Unless  I  find  this 
houri,  I  am  a  lost,  broken-hearted  man  ! " 

''  Then  you  have  not  yet  begun  your  siege  ? " 

"  Impossible  to  begin  it.  The  Duke  of  Modena  was  with  me, 
and  you  know  what  an  enterprising  roue  he  is.  To  have 
pointed  her  out  to  him  would  have  been  to  retreat  with  loss. 
So  I  was  obliged  to  say  nothing  :  but  I  will  see  her  again  if,  to 
do  so,  I  have  to  reduce  Venice  to  a  heap  of  ashes  !  " 

"Peace,  thou  insatiable  conqueror,  or  amorous  ambition 
will  intoxicate  you.  You  are  certainly  just  the  very  cava- 
lier to  storm  and  take  the  citadel  of  a  woman's  heart ;  but  you 
are  the  Elector  of  Bavaria,  a  reigning  prince,  and  son-in-law 
of  the  Emperor  of  Austria." 

**  My  dear  Eugene,  no  ugly  moral  reflections,  as  you  love 
me  I  I  am  here  to  enjoy  the  glow  of  the  warm  blood  that 
dances  through  my  veins — to  sip  the  ambrosia  that  pleasure 
holds  to  my  lips— in  short,  I  am,  bodyaud  soul,  a  son  of  the 
short-lived  carnival  that  begins  to-day.  Don't  preach  ;  but 
pray  if  you  like,  for  my  success,  and  help  me  in  my  need." 

**  Help  you  ?  I  should  like  to  know  how  I  am  to  do  that ! " 
said  Eugene,  laughing.  "  But  stay — I  have  a  man  in  my  serv- 
ice who  professes  to  know  everybody  in  Venice.  So,  if  you 
should  see  your  houri  to-day,  point  her  out,  and  doubtless  An- 
tonio will  tell  us  hep  name.  Ah  I  Twelve  o'clock  at  last  I— 
Come,  come,  let  us  go." 

"  You  have  not  made  your  toilet  Eugene.  What  costume 
have  you  selected  ? " 

"  The  very  respectable  one  of  a  little  abb6,"  was  the  reply. 

**  Respectable,  if  you  will,  but  excessively  unbecoming,  and 
Unworthy  of  the  Prince  of  Savoy.  I  perceive  that  you,  at 
leasts  have  no  wish  to  make  conquests  to-day." 


PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

"  No — all  my  victories  I  hope  to  win  by  the  help  of  my  good 
sword." 

"  Do  you  go  with  me  in  my  gondola,  reverend  sir  ? " 

"  I  in  your  magnificent  gondola,  at  the  side  of  such  a  Phce- 
bus-ApoUo  I  I  might  well  despair  of  making  conquests  in 
such  company  ;  and,  for  aught  you  know,  I  may  he  desirous 
of  attracting  the  attention  of  some  fair  lady  who  is  not  taken 
by  appearances." 

The  elector  looked  up  in  surprise.  He  had  never  heard  an 
expression  like  this  from  Eugene's  lips  before  ;  and  now  he  saw 
clearly  that  his  demeanor  had  changed,  that  his  eye  was  rest- 
less and  bright,  his  cheek  flushed,  his  whole  countenance 
beaming  with  some  inward  hope  or  realized  joy. 

"  Eugene,"  said  he,  touching  his  friend's  shoulder,  "  Venice 
holds  the  secret  of  your  love  ;  and  you  have  tidings  that  have 
lightened  your  heart.  I  read  them  in  your  eyes,  which  are  far 
from  being  as  discreet  as  your  lips." 

"  Perhaps  so  ;  but  the  secrets  of  love  are  sacred — sacred  as 
those  of  the  confessional.  Nevertheless,  I  may  confide  in  you 
sooner  than  you  expect,  for  I  may  need  your  help  as  well  as 
you  mine." 

The  two  young  men  went  out  arm  in  arm,  followed  by  the 
suite  of  the  elector,  and,  behind  them,  by  Conrad  and  Antonio. 

"  Who  is  that  mask  ? "  asked  Max,  as  he  passed  by. 

''  My  new  commissionnaire,  Antonio — he  that  is  to  tell  us 
the  name  of  your  belle." 

They  were  by  this  time  on  the  marble  stairs  that  led  to  the 
water,  where  side  by  side  lay  the  superb  gilded  gondola  of  the 
Elector  of  Bavaria  and  the  inconspicuous  one  of  the  Prince  of 
Savoy. 

As  the  two  princes  were  descending  the  stairs,  a  gayly^ 
dressed  nobleman  sprang  from  the  gondola  of  the  elector,  and 
advanced  respectfully  to  meet  them. 

"Monsieur  le  Marquis  de  Villars,"  said  Max,  bowing,  "  I  am 
happy  to  see  that  you  have  accepted  a  seat  with  me." 

"  It  is  an  honor  for  which  I  am  deeply  grateful,  your  high- 
ness," replied  the  marquis  ;  "  and  one  which  I  accept  in  the 
name  of  my  gracious  sovereign,  for  whom  alone  such  a  com- 
pliment can  be  intended." 


THE  REGATTA.  289 

"  You  are  mistaken,  marquis  ;  I  invited  you  that  I  might  en- 
joy the  pleasure  of  your  company  to-day.  Allow  me,  Prince 
of  Savoy,  to  introduce  to  you  the  Marquis  de  Villars,  the 
French  ambassador  to  the  court  of  Bavaria." 

"  There  is  no  necessity  for  us  to  know  each  other,"  replied 
Eugene.  "  The  marquis  is  a  Frenchman,  and  I  have  no  love 
for  that  nation  ;  particularly  for  those  who  are  favorites  of 
Monsieur  Louvois.     Adieu,  your  highness." 

And  without  vouchsafing  a  word  to  the  Fi-ench  ambassador, 
Eugene  entered  his  gondola. 

'*  I  must  apologize  for  my  friend,"  said  the  courteous  Max 
Emmanuel  to  the  marquis.  "  He  has  been  sorely  injured  both 
by  the  King  of  France  aud  his  minister.  Forget  his  bluntness, 
then,  I  beseech  you,  and  forgive  his  unpleasant  remark." 

"  He  is  your  highness's  friend,  and  that  at  once  earns  his 
forgiveness,"  replied  De  Villars.  "  But  that  the  friend  of  the 
Elector  of  Bavaria  should  be  the  enemy  of  my  sovereign 
I  deeply  regret ;  for  he  may  prejudice  your  highness 
against  the  King  of  France.  He  may  transfer  his  aver- 
sion to — " 

"Let  us  rather  suppose  that  I  may  transfer  my  love  of 
France  to  him,"  said  Max  Emmanuel.  "But  let  us  eschew 
politics,  and  enjoy  the  bliss  of  the  hour.  To-day  la  bella 
Venezia  puts  forth  all  her  charms.  And  as  the  swift  gondolas 
skim  over  the  green  waters  of  the  lagoon,  so  flies  my  hesn^ 
toward  my  bellissima  Venetiana  ! " 

At  twelve  o'clock,  Laura  left  her  dressing-room  to  join 
the  Marquis  de  Strozzi  and  his  sister  in  the  drawing-room 
below. 

"  Great  heavens,  how  beautiful  !  "  cried  Lucretia,  embracing 
her.  "  I  have  not  been  wise  in  placing  myself  so  near  you,  be- 
witching Laura.  Ottario,  do  look  at  her  ;  did  you  ever  see 
such  a  vision  of  beauty  ? " 

"  Pray  do  not  force  the  marquis  to  praise  me,"  said  Laura  ; 
"  you  are  perfectly  aware  that  I  am  indifferent  to  his  approba- 
tion. But  as  regards  beauty  in  Venice,  where  beautiful  women 
abound,  the  Countess  Canossa  is  acknowledged  to  be  la  belleza 
delle  belle.  And  to  think  that  nobody  will  see  you  to-day  in 
my  closed  gondola  I " 


290  PRINCE  EUGENE   AND   HIS  TIMES. 

"  You  adhere  to  your  resolution  to  have  your  gondola  cur^ 
tained  ? "  asked  the  marquis. 

'•  Yes,"  replied  Laura,  without  bestowing  a  glance  upon  him. 

''And  I  rejoice  to  know  it,"  exclaimed  he,  passionately, 
"  for  I  alone  will  drink  in  all  your  beauty.  For  me  alone  have 
you  worn  this  becoming  costume." 

"  You  know  perfectly  well  that  my  dress  was  chosen  by 
your  sister." 

"  Catharine  Comaro  was  by  adoption  a  Venetian,"  returned 
Strozzi,  "and  since  you  have  willingly  donned  her  dress,  I 
must  accept  it  as  an  earnest  of  your  consent  to  appear  as  the 
wife  of  a  Venetian  noble." 

To  this  taunt  Laura  made  no  reply.  She  gave  her  hand  to 
the  countess,  and  they  passed  into  the  corridors  together.  The 
walls  were  hung  with  chefs-dfoQuvres  of  Titian,  Tintoretto, 
Paul  Veronese,  and  Gioberti,  all  gorgeously  framed  in  Italian 
style  ;  and  between  each  picture  was  a  mirror  that  extended 
from  floor  to  ceiling.  Through  these  magnificent  halls  went 
Laura,  as  regardless  of  their  splendor  as  of  the  passionate 
glances  of  the  man  who  walked  by  her  side,  so  near  and  yet  so 
far,  so  very  far  away  from  her  heart. 

The  gondola  that  awaited  them  was  an  heir-loom  of  the 
Strozzis,  and  was  never  used  except  on  gala-days.  It  was  well 
known  to  the  Venetians,  every  one  of  whom  was  accustomed 
to  point  to  it  with  pride,  saying,  "  There  goes  the  bucentoro  of 
the  Strozzis  ! " 

As  Laura  was  about  to  step  into  this  glittering  bucentoro, 
the  gondoliers  around,  delighted  with  her  beauty,  shouted, 
"  Evviva  la  Marchesa  Strozzi  ! "  To  their  great  astonishment, 
the  marchesa,  instead  of  bowing  and  smiling  as  is  usual  on 
such  occasions,  gave  no  other  evidence  of  having  heard  their 
greeting  than  that  which  by  a  frown  aod  a  flash  of  her  dark 
eyes  might  be  construed  into  a  signal  of  displeasure,  as  she 
disappeared  behind  the  silken  hangings  of  the  bucentoro. 

The  centre  of  the  gondola  was  supported  by  gilded  pillars, 
surmounted  by  a  canopy  of  silk  and  gold.  Behind  this  canopy 
was  a  sort  of  pavilion,  bordered  by  seats  cushioned  with  gold 
brocade.  In  the  centre  was  a  table,  of  costly  material  and 
make,  on  which  stood  a  golden  vase  of  rare  flowers.    The  pil* 


THE  REGATTA. 

lars  also  were  wreathed  with  flowers,  which  appeared  to  be 
carried  from  column  to  column  by  flying  Cupids  that  were 
holding  up  the  garlands  in  their  chubby  little  hands.  In  short, 
the  temple  was  worthy  of  the  divinities,  one  of  whom  was  light- 
hearted  and  coquettish,  the  other  proud  and  serious.  Between 
them  was  the  Marquis  de  Strozzi,  in  the  rich  habit  of  a  Greek 
corsair — a  character  which  his  handsome,  sinister  face  was 
well  fltted  to  represent.  His  gloomy  black  eyes  were  fixed  upon 
Laura,  while  his  hands  toyed  with  a  silken  cord  that  hung  from 
the  pillar  against  which  he  was  leaning. 

The  eyes  of  the  countess  were  fi^ed  upon  the  cord,  and 
presently  she  raised  them  with  a  glance  of  inquiry  to  her 
brother.  He  nodded,  and  his  sister  smiled.  Then  throwing 
herself  back  among  the  cushions,  she  raised  her  little  foot  to  a 
gilded  stool  that  was  before  her,  and  leaning  her  head  against 
the  pillar,  looked  out  upon  the  waters  with  an  expression  that 
might  have  become  Danae  awaiting  her  shower  of  gold. 

Laura,  on  the  contrary,  wore  a  look  of  resolve  that  seemed 
inappropriate  to  the  scene  and  the  occasion.  But  her  thoughts 
were  far  away  from  the  frivolities  that  interested  Lucretia. 
She  had  determined  that,  in  presence  of  all  Venice  and  of  the 
foreigners  that  had  assembled  there  to  celebrate  the  carnival, 
she  would  burst  asunder  the  compulsory  ties  that  bound  her 
to  Strozzi.  Before  the  world  she  would  give  the  lie  to  that 
simulated  bridal,  and  fly  to  him  who  was,  by  all  the  laws  of 
God,  her  true  and  only  spouse. 

Thus  thought  Laura,  while  far  away  from  the  crowds  that 
from  p^ondola  to  gondola  were  greeting  one  another,  the  bucen- 
toro  pursued  its  solitary  way  over  the  water.  She  had  man- 
aged to  draw  aside  the  curtain  and  to  look  around  for  him 
who  to  her  filled  the  world  with  his  presence.  At  last  she  saw 
him.  He  was  there — there  I  and  he  saw  her,  for  his  gondola 
changed  its  course,  and  came  nearer.  Like  an  arrow  it  sped 
across  the  waters,  taking  heed  of  no  impediments,  dashing 
into  the  midst  of  other  gondolas,  as  reckless  as  a  pirate  of  the 
consternation  it  created  among  the  bewildered  gondoliers,  who 
were  forced  to  give  it  passage,  or  be  dashed  aside  like  so  much 
spray  ;  while  Eugene^s  gaze  was  fixed  upon  the  golden  bark  of 
the  Strozzi — the  argosy  that  bore  such  precious  freight.    At 


292  PRIXCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

last  they  neared  it,  and  Eugene  could  see  the  little  white  hand, 
holding  a  bouquet  of  roses  from  between  the  crimson  hang- 
ings of  the  pavilion.  His  eyes  brightened,  and  his  whole  being 
seemed  transfigured.  Gallant  and  comely  he  looked — a  knight 
worthy  of  any  woman's  love. 

The  Elector  of  Bavaria  had  seen  all  the  movements  of  Eu- 
gene's gondola.  He  had  seen  it  suddenly  change  its  course, 
and  had  watched  the  prince  pointing  with  uplifted  hand  to 
some  object  in  the  distance,  which,  to  judge  by  his  bearing, 
one  would  have  supposed  was  a  breach  to  mount.  Max  Em- 
manuel had  smiled  and  said  to  himself  :  "  In  yonder  direction 
lies  Eugene's  love-secret.  We  had  better  follow,  for  we  may 
be  useful  in  time  of  need.  He  seems  to  me  to  be  too  bashful 
to  manage  an  intrigue  with  skill." 

So  the  elector  gave  orders  to  follow  the  gondola  of  the 
Prince  of  Savoy  ;  and  now  his  gondoliers,  too,  were  rowing 
for  their  lives,  while  many  a  bright  eye  was  turned  admiringly 
upon  his  tall,  graceful  form. 

Laura  was  not  the  only  person  that  was  looking  out  from 
the  curtained  bucentoro.  The  marquis,  too,  had  seen  the  two 
approaching  gondolas  ;  and  now,  as  the  foremost  one  came 
full  in  view,  he  passed  his  arm  outside,  and,  while  Laura's  head 
was  turned  away,^ade  a  sign  to  Antonio,  who  responded  with 
another. 

The  gondolas  were  now  so  close  that  their  occupants  were 
easily  recognized.  Strozzi  saw  Eugene's  passionate  gaze,  and 
guessed  that  it  had  been  returned,  although  the  face  of  his 
wife  had  been  averted,  so  that  he  had  not  seen  the  ac^ 

At  this  moment  Laura  turned,  and  gave  a  quick,  searching 
glance  aroimd  the  pavilion. 

"You  are  looking  for  me  ? "  asked  Strozzi,  with  a  singular 
smile.  "  I  am  here,  my  wife,  to  protect  you  from  all  danger  ; 
and  as  I  am  weary  of  standing,  and  as  there  is  no  seat  for  me 
beside  you,  I  will  take  the  place  that  my  heart  covets  most." 

And,  before  Laura  could  prevent  him,  he  had  thrown  him- 
self at  full  length,  had  clasped  her  feet,  and  raised  them  over 
his  knee,  so  that  they  had  the  appearance  of  having  been 
placed  in  that  familiar  position  by  her  own  will.  He  then 
pulled  the  silken  cord  which  he  had  held  all  this  while  in  his 


THE  REGATTA.  .  293 

hand,  and  the  curtains  of  the  pavilion  were  rolled  up,  exposing 
its  three  occupants  to  the  view  of  the  whole  Venetian  world. 
On  one  side  lay  Lucretia,  in  her  Dmnae-like  position,  and  on 
the  other,  gazing  with  the  rapture  of  an  accepted  lover  into 
the  face  of  the  marchioness,  lay  Strozzi.  The  picture  was  un- 
equivocally that  of  a  pair  of  lovers,  and  those  who  knew  her 
not  as  his  wife  were  convinced  that  in  Laura  they  beheld  the 
mistress  of  the  Marquis  de  Strozzi. 

"  Evmva ! "  shouted  the  enraptured  multitude,  dazzled  by 
the  beauty  of  the  tableau.  No  one  heard  Laura's  despairing 
entreaty  for  release  from  a  posture  so  humiliating.  Nor  had 
any  one  heard  the  exclamation  of  delight  that  burst  from  the 
lips  of  the  elector,  as  in  Lucretia  he  recognized  his  houri. 

"  There  she  is !  '*  exclaimed  he  to  the  French  ambas- 
sador. 

"  Who  ? "  asked  the  latter,  in  astonishment. 

"  The  most  beautiful  woman  that. ever  distracted  a  suscep- 
tible man,"  was  the  reply.     "  Do  you  not  know  her  ? " 

"  I  regret  to  say  that  I  do  not,  but  I  will  make  it  my  duty 
to  discover  her  abode,  and  communicate  the  discovery  to  your 
highness." 

"  Thank  you,"  began  the  elector.  But  suddenly  he  stopped, 
and  gazed  intently  upon  Prince  Eugene,  wl^o  was  standing  at 
the  stem  of  his  gondola,  only  a  few  feet  distant  from  the  bu- 
centoro  of  the  Strozzis.  The  elector  directed  his  gondoliers  to 
approach  that  of  the  prince,  and,  springing  from  one  boat  to 
the  other,  he  laid  his  hand  on  Eugene's  shoulder. 

*•  Friend,"  said  he,  '*  I  do  not  desire  to  force  myself  into 
your  confidence  ;  but  lest  I  become  your  unconscious  rival,  an- 
swer me  one  question.  Is  that  lady  there,  in  the  red-velvet 
dress,  the  object  of  your  unhappy  attachment  ? " 

"  No,  dear  Max,"  replied  Eugene,  with  his  eyes  fixed  stead- 
fastly upon  Laura. 

"Truly?" 

"  Truly,  I  do  not  know  her  ;  but  if  you  ask  Antonio,  he  will 
tell  you." 

With  these  few  words  Eugene  turned  away,  and,  in  a  low 
voice,  promised  a  rich  reward  to  his  gondoliers  if  they  would 
but  touch  the  gondola  of  the  Marquis  Strozzi. 


294  PRINCE  EUGENE    AND   HIS  TIMES. 

The  elector  beckoned  to  Antonio.  "  Who  is  that  lady  in 
the  gilded  gondola  close  by  ?  "  said  he. 

"  Which  one,  your  highness  ? " 

"  The  one  in  red  velvet." 

"  That  is  the  Countess  Lucretia  Canossa,  sister  of  the  Mar- 
quis de  Strozzi." 

"  Is  she  married  ? " 

"Yes,  your  highness,  to  a  man  who  has  squandered  her 
fortune  ;  so  that  but  for  her  brother  she  would  be  penniless." 

The  elector  thanked  Antonio,  and  leaped  back  into  his  own 
gondola.  Tbe  Marquis  de  Villars,  meanwhile,  who  knew  that 
gondoliers  w^ere  the  news-givers  of  Venice,  had  ascertained 
quite  as  much  of  the  position  of  the  countess  as  Max  Em- 
manuel had  done  during  his  short  absence. 

"  I  can  answer  your  highness's  question  now,"  whispered 
he.  "  I  have  learned  every  thing  concerning  her  that  it  is 
needful  to  know  from  the  gondoliers." 

"  And  I,  too,  know  all  that  I  care  to  know,"  replied  the 
elector  ;  "  so  here  am  I,  like  Rinaldo  before  the  enchanted  gar- 
dens of  Armida  :  I  must  and  will  enter  !  " 

"  Of  course  you  will.  What  woman  can  withstand  the 
fascinations  of  the  handsomest  cavalier  in  Europe  ? "  observed 
the  marquis  ;  adding  to  himself  :  "  And  thank  Heaven  that  I 
know  the  Armida  of  his  longings,  for  she  must  draw  this  Ri- 
naldo, not  only  into  her  own  toils,  but  into  those  of  France." 

Eugene  was  standing  on  the  edge  of  his  gondola,  his  pas- 
sionate gaze  fixed  upon  the  group  that  had  been  disclosed  by 
the  rising  of  Strozz^s  s_lk  curtain.  What  could  it  mean  ?  Oh  I 
it  was  horrible  !  To  see  Laura  lying  back  in  a  position  so  vo- 
luptuous, her  feet  clasped  in  Strozzi's  arms,  his  eyes  so  lovingly 
triumphant,  was  like  a  poisoned  dagger  to  the  heart  of  her  un- 
happy lover.  Had  she  called  him  thither  to  make  him  the 
sport  of  his  successful  rival  ?  The  very  thought  was  madness  : 
and  yet  Laura  feigned  not  to  see  him  ;  her  eyes  were  steadily 
cast  down. 

Eugene  was  determined  to  know  the  worst ;  he  would  not 
retreat  until  conviction  had  chased  away  this  deadly  suspense. 
Slowly  his  gondola  came  near  and  more  near,  while  in  that  of 
his  rival  its  approach  was  watched  by  two  of  its  occupants, 


THE  REGATTA.  295 

both  of  whom  knew  equally  well  for  what  purpose  it  was 
coming. 

Laura  gathered  up  all  her  strength  for  one  effort,  and  freed 
her  feet  from  Strozzi's  clasp. 

"  You  are  a  wretch  ! "  exclaimed  she  with  indignation.  '*  If 
you  pollute  me  again  with  the  touch  of  your  hands,  I  will 
drown  myself  here,  in  your  very  sight." 

"  Oh  no  ;  you  will  throw  yourself  overboard,  that  Prince 
Eugene  may  plunge  after  you.  Listen  to  me.  Marchioness  de 
Strozzi.  I  am  perfectly  acquainted  with  the  nature  of  the 
stratagem  you  proposed  to  put  into  execution  to-day.  But  I 
tell  you  that  as  sure  as  the  gondola  of  the  prince  touches  mine, 
and  you  make  the  least  movement  of  your  hand  or  foot,  he 
dies." 

"  Vain  threat ! "  exclaimed  she,  surveying  him  with  con- 
temptuous disbelief. 

"  You  think  so  ?  Let  me  prove  to  you  the  contrary.  Do 
you  see  the  mask  behind  Prince  Eugene  ?  He  is  the  man  that 
will  do  the  deed.  Observe  his  motions  while  I  speak  a  word 
or  two,  ostensibly  to  my  rowers — really  to  him. " 

And  the  marquis  called  out,  as  though  to  his  gondoliers, 
"  Are  you  ready  ? " 

The  words  were  no  sooner  spoken,  than  the  mask  bowed 
his  head,  and  drew  from  his  cloak  a  poniard,  which  he  raised 
and  held  suspended  over  the  back  of  Eugene's  neck. 

Laura  uttered  a  cry  and  fell  back  among  the  cushions, 
while  Strozzi,  hanging  over  her  with  the  air  of  an  enamoured 
lover,  whispered  :  "  The  gondola  almost  touches  ours.  Make 
but  the  smallest  sign— lift  but  a  finger,  and  I  swear  that  I  will 
give  the  signal  for  his  death  1 " 

*'  O  God  !  do  not  kill  him  I  "  was  all  that  the  wretched  girl 
had  strength  to  say. 

The  gondolas  met.  Eugene  stood  erect  on  the  stem  of  his 
boat,  his  right  arm  extended  toward  her  whom  he  loved.  But 
alas  I  she  came  not.  She  did  not  even  turn  her  head  ;  for  An- 
tonio was  there,  his  poniard  uplifted,  and  Eugene's  life  de- 
pended upon  her  obedience. 

**  Traitress  ! "  exclaimed  the  prince,  as  Strozzi's  bucentoro 
shot  ahead,  and  the  red-silk  curtains,  falling  heavily  down, 
20 


296  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

shut  out  the  fearful  tableau  that  had  been  prepared  to  torture 
and  exasperate  him. 

Laura  had  swooned,  and  her  fall  had  been  remarked  by  the 
gondoliers. 

"  Poor  thing,"  said  one  of  them,  "  she  has  a  paroxysm  of 
insanity." 

"  How  insanity  ? "  asked  Conrad. 

"  Everybody  in  Venice  has  heard  of  the  lunacy  of  the  Mar- 
chioness de  Strozzi,"  was  the  reply.  "  It  is  for  that  reason  that 
she  never  goes  out.  The  marquis  perhaps  thought  she  might 
be  trusted  to  see  the  regatta  ;  but  he  was  mistaken.  You  must 
have  remarked  how  closely  he  watched  her  for  fear  of  some 
catastrophe." 

"  Insane,  is  she  ?  "  said  Eugene,  with  quivering  lip,  to  An- 
tonio. 

"  Pazza  per  amore,"  replied  he,  with  a  shrug.  Then,  com- 
ing closer  to  the  prince,  he  added,  "  The  marquis  gives  out  that 
his  wife  is  crazy,  and,  as  nobody  ever  sees  her,  nobody  is  any 
the  wiser." 

"  And  you  ?    What  think  you,  Antonio  ? " 

"  I  do  not  believe  it,  for  I  know  the  signora  well." 

"  You  know  her  ? "  said  Eugene,  touching  Antonio  on  the 
shoulder. 

"Yes.  She  it  is  who  recommended  me  to  take  service 
with  your  highness,  and  to  tell  you  that  you  might  trust 
me." 

"  Oh,  I  do  trust  you,  good  Antonio.  Did  I  not  say  that  the 
scar  on  your  face  was  your  best  recommendation  ? " 

"  Yes,  excel]enza  ;  and  I  will  not  forget  it." 

"  Can  you  explain  to  me  the  mystery  of  the  scene  we  have 
just  witnessed  ? " 

"  Yes,  excellenza.  The  marchesa  intended  to  leap  into  this 
gondola  and  fly  with  you  from  Venice  ;  but,  as  she  attempted 
to  rise,  the  marquis  showed  her  a  dagger,  and  swore  that  if  she 
moved  hand  or  foot  he  would  spring  into  your  highness's  boat 
and  kill  you." 

"  And  I  cursed  her  !  "  thought  Eugene,  "  and  she  heard  my 
cruel  words.  Oh  Laura,  my  Laura  !  when  will  I  lie  at  thy 
feet  to  implore  forgiveness  ?    Home,"  cried  he  aloud,  to  th^ 


THE  REGATTA.  297 

gondoliers.  Then,  in  a  whisper,  he  added  to  Antonio,  "I 
must  speak  with  you  as  soon  as  we  are  alone." 

All  this  time  Laura  lay  insensible  in  the  bucenioro,  her 
husband  gazing  intently  upon  her  pallid  face.  The  Countess 
Lucretia  was  wearied  to  death  with  the  whole  performance. 

"  Fratillo,"  said  she,  "  I  hope  that  you  have  done  with  me, 
and  that  you  intend  to  return  with  your  sentimental  beauty  to 
the  palace." 

Without  removing  his  eyes  from  Laura,  Strozzi  bent  his 
bead,  while  the  countess  went  on  : 

"  My  gondola,  your  handsome  present,  is  just  behind  us, 
and  I  must  say  that  it  is  worthy  of  Aphrodite  herself.  Pity 
that  no  goddess  should  grace  such  a  lovely  sea-shell.  Have  I 
your  permission  to  occupy  it,  and  leave  this  stifling  atmos 
phere  of  love  ? " 

"  Go,  go,"  answered  Strozzi,  impatiently. 

"  Thanks  ! "  was  Lucretia's  heartfelt  reply  ;  and,  opening 
the  curtains,  she  beckoned  to  her  gondoliers,  and  stepped  grace- 
fuDy  from  the  bucentoro  to  her  own  dainty  bark. 

"  It  is  rather  tiresome  to  be  without  company,"  thought  she, 
as  she  was  rowed  away  ;  "  but  solitude  is  better  than  conceal- 
ment behind  those  hateful  curtains  of  Ottario's.  I  wonder 
who  is  the  handsome  cavalier  that  seemed  to  be  struck  with  me 
a  while  ago  ?  One  of  the  foreign  princes,  I  imagine,  for  he  had 
a  star  on  his  breast.  Ah  ! — There  he  is,  staring  at  me  with  all 
ihc  power  of  his  splendid  eyes." 

And  the  beautiful  Lucretia,  pretending  not  to  see  the  elect- 
or, sank  gracefully  back  among  her  white  satin  cushions. 

'•Row  toward  the  piazetta,"  said  she  to  her  gondoliers,  "but 
g^  in  a  direction  contrary  to  that  taken  by  yonder  large  gon- 
dola filled  x*^ith  cavaliers." 

♦•  That  of  the  Elector  of  Bavaria  ?    Yes,  signora.  *' 

'*  Ah  1 "  thought  rfhe,  delighted,  '•  he  is  the  Elector  of  Bava- 
ria,  son-in-law  of  the  Emperor  of  Germany.  It  would  be  worth 
my  while  to  entice  so  handsome  a  prince  from  his  loyalty  to 
an  emperor's  daughter  !  " 

Scarcely  had  the  gondola  of  the  countess  altered  its  course, 
before  the  elector  ordered  pursuit. 

**  Do  you  see  that  gondola  there,  fashioned  like  a  sea-shell, 


298  PRINCE   EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

and  cushioned  in  white  satin,  Montgelas?"  said  he  to  his 
chamberlain. 

**  Yes,  your  highness." 

"  Say  to  the  gondoliers  that  we  follow  in  its  track.  Wheth- 
er we  see  the  regatta  or  not  is  of  no  consequence,  so  we  keep 
in  view  of  that  Venus  in  the  conch-shell." 

The  Marquis  de  Villars  had  pretended  to  be  in  earnest  con- 
versation with  his  neighbor,  but  he  heard  every  word  of  this 
order. 

"Yes,  indeed,"  thought  he.  "  The  countess  must  be  bought, 
if  her  price  be  a  million." 

Lucretia  vouchsafed  not  a  glance  that  could  be  detected  at 
her  pursuers  ;  but  she  saw  every  thing,  and  exulted  at  her  con- 
quest. "  Oh,  emperor's  daughter,  emperor's  daughter  !  "  said 
she,  "  your  husband  is  falling  into  my  toils.  They  say  you 
are  handsome,  but  your  elector's  eyes  telj.  me  that  I  am  hand- 
somer than  you  ! " 

And  so  she  beguiled  her  solitude,  while  in  the  bucentoro 
Laura  still  lay  in  her  swoon,  and  Strozzi  gazed  enamoured 
upon  her  beauty. 

"  Beautiful  as  Aurora  ! "  murmured  he,  "  beautiful  as  a  dew- 
gemmed  rose  ;  beautiful  as  the  evening  star  !  I  love  you — I 
love  you  to  madness,  and  you  must,  you  shall  be  mine  ! " 

He  bent  over  her,  and,  now  that  she  had  no  power  to  resist 
him,  he  covered  her  face  with  passionate  kisses.  But  his 
kisses  restored  her  to  life,  and  with  a  shudder  she  raised  her 
hands,  and  threw  him  off. 

"  Touch  me  again,  and  I  will  plunge  this  dagger  in  your 
false  heart ! "  cried  she,  drawing  a  poniard  from  her  bosom. 

"  I  would  not  care,  so  I  could  say  that  you  were  mine  be- 
fore I  died!" 

"  Would  that  you  were  dead,  that  I  might  fly  to  him  whose 
wife  I  am,  in  the  sight  of  Heaven  1 " 

"  Put  up  your  dagger,"  said  Strozzi,  coldly,  while  a  look  of 
venom  chased  away  the  love  that  had  beamed  in  his  eye.  "  I 
will  not  trouble  you  again." 

"  You  have  betrayed  me  a  second  time,  liar  and  impostor 
that  you  are  !  "  exclaimed  Laura,  replacing  her  dagger.  "  You 
iiave  deceived  my  lover  into  the  belief  that  I  am  false  to  him, 


THE  NEGOTIATOR.  299 

but,  believe  me,  he  shall  know  the  truth.  God  will  protect 
him  from  you  and  your  bravi,  and  He  will  avenge  my  wrongs  \ 
Now,  order  these  curtains  to  be  raised.  It  is  better  to  be  gazed 
at  by  the  multitude,  some  of  whom  have  hearts  and  souls,  than 
to  sit  in  this  pavilion  within  sight  of  you  !  And  bid  your 
gondoliers  take  me  home  to  my  prison,  where,  God  be  thanked  1 
I  can  sometimes  be  alone  with  my  own  thoughts  !  " 

Strozzi  obeyed  like  a  cowed  hound.  He  lifted  the  curtains, 
and  ordered  the  men  to  row  to  the  palace. 

Laura's  eyes  sought  the  gondola  of  her  lover,  but  she  could 
not  see  it.  It  had  left  the  regatta,  and  had  already  landed  at 
the  stairs  of  the  Palazza  Capello. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE    NEGOTIATOR. 

CJouNTESS  LucRETiA  Canossa  had  just  risen,  and  lay  re- 
clining on  a  faded  ottoman,  attired  in  a  neglige,  which  was 
any  thing  but  elegant,  or  appropriate  to  a  beauty.  She  had 
rung  several  times  for  her  breakfast,  but  her  waiting-maid  had 
not  seemed  to  hear  the  summons,  for  nobody  came  at  the  call. 

The  countess,  however,  was  so  absorbed  in  her  day-dreams, 
that  she  forgot  her  breakfast.  For  a  time  her  thoughts  dwelt 
upon  the  singular  scene  that  had  taken  place  in  the  bucentoro. 
She  knew  nothing  of  the  complications  relating  thereunto ; 
she  had  but  witnessed  the  approach  of  the  gondola  which  she 
supposed  to  be  that  of  her  sister-in-law's  lover  ;  had  seen  her 
brother's  extraordinary  excitement,  and  had  guessed  that  some 
disappointment  connected  with  the  presence  of  the  insignifi- 
cant little  personage  in  that  gondola  had  caused  Laura  to  fall 
into  a  swoon.  She  felt  sincerely  sorry  for  her  unhappy  sis- 
ter-in-law, but  the  countess  was  not  inclined  to  sentiment ;  so 
she  dismissed  the  mystery  of  Laura's  troubles  with  a  sigh,  and 
fell  to  thinking  of  the  Elector  of  Bavaria. 

He  had  followed  her  all  day,  and  well  had  she  perceived 
that  he  had  had  eyes  for  no  one  but  herself.     And  when  she 


300  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

had  affected  to  weary  of  his  pursuit,  he  had  left  his  own  gon- 
dola for  that  of  Count  Cornaro,  who  had  approached  and 
asked  permission  to  present  his  distinguished  guest.  The  per- 
mission having  been  accorded  as  a  matter  of  course,  the  elect- 
or had  entered  into  an  animated  conversation  with  her,  which 
lasted  until  the  close  of  the  regatta. 

She  had  met  him  again  that  evening,  at  a  ball  given  by- 
Admiral  Mocenigo  to  the  foreign  princes.  Many  a  handsome, 
gay  gallant  was  there  ;  but  the  handsomest  and  most  admired 
of  them  all  was  Max  Emmanuel  of  Bavaria.  His  dress,  too, 
was  magnificent  in  the  extreme.  It  was  so  covered  with  dia- 
monds that  it  was  like  a  dazzling  sea  of  light.  But  more  splen- 
did than  his  jewels  were  the  flashing  eyes  which,  during  that 
whole  festival,  had  been  fixed  in  admiration  upon  the  beauti- 
ful Lucretia  ;  and  what  was  still  more  delightful  was  the  fact 
that  everybody  had  observed  it,  and  that  many  a  dame,  who 
had  eclipsed  the  Countess  of  Canossa,  and  slighted  her  be- 
cause of  her  poverty,  had  envied  her  the  conquest  of  the  Ba- 
varian prince's  heart.  It  had  all  ended  as  it  should  have  done. 
Max  Emmanuel  had  asked  permission  to  call  upon  her,  and  he 
was  to  make  his  visit  at  one  o'clock  that  day. 

Lucretia  had  advanced  so  far  in  her  triumphal  course,  when 
she  cast  a  glance  of  dismay  at  her  mean,  faded  furniture. 

"  Oh,  how  forlorn  it  looks  ! "  said  she.  "And  to  think  that 
this  is  the  only  room  wherein  I  can  receive  a  visit !  for  not 
another  apartment  in  the  palace  contains  a  chair  whereon  a 
man  might  take  a  seat.  I  ought  not  to  have  yielded  to  my 
vanity,  and  consented  to  receive  him  at  home,  for,  when  he 
sees  my  poverty,  he  will  no  longer  think  my  heart  worthy  of 
being  won.  He  will  believe  that  it  can  be  bought,  and  I  shall 
sink  in  his  estimation  to  the  level  of  an  ordinary  courtesaa. 
I  must  be  proud  and  reserved  to-day  with  him  ;  and,  as  I  have 
naught  else  to  display,  I  must  show  off  my  wardrobe.  But 
where  can  Marietta  be?  Perhaps  Count  Canossa  has  gam- 
bled her  away,  and  she  has  gone  off  like  the  rest  of  the  ap- 
pointments of  this  dreary  palace." 

Lucretia  rang  again  ;  still  there  was  no  answer. 

"  The  poor  girl  must  have  gone  out  to  get  me  some  break- 
fast.   I  had  forgotten  that  the  cook  left  us  because  he  had  not 


THE  NEGOTUTUR.  801 

been  paid  for  a  year  ;  and,  as  there  is  nobody  else  here,  I  must 
e'en  have  patience  until  Marietta  returns." 

Lucretia  sighed,  and  fell  back  upon  her  ottoman.  For 
some  time  past  she  had  been  aware  that  there  was  considerable 
bustle  in  the  palace,  attended  by  hammering,  and  the  sound  of 
furnitui^e  either  placed  or  displaced.  She  had  paid  very  little 
attention  to  it,  for  the  rooms  were  entirely  empty,  and  she 
could  only  conjecture  that  her  needy  spouse  might  have  rented 
them  out  for  the  carnival.  But  the  noise  came  nearer  and 
nearer,  until  she  perceived  that  it  had  reached  the  adjoining 
chamber,  whence  she  could  hear  the  sound  of  voices,  and  dis- 
tinguish much  that  was  said. 

She  rang  again,  and  this  time  the  door  was  opened  by  some 
invisible  hand,  when  Marietta,  bearing  in  her  hand  a  large  sil- 
ver waiter,  advanced  to  a  rickety  table  which  stood  near  the 
ottoman,  and  placed  upon  it  a  most  delicate  breakfast,  served 
in  dishes  of  costly,  chased  silver.  Not  only  the  service  was 
superb,  but  Marietta  herself  was  attired  in  a  costume  which 
shamed  the  shabbiness  of  her  high-born  mistress. 

Begging  the  countess's  pardon  for  her  unpunctuality,  the 
maid  proceeded  to  pour  out  the  chocolate,  which  she  handed  in 
a  cup  of  Sevres  porcelain. 

Lucretia  rubbed  her  eyes.  "  Where,  in  the  name  of  Alad- 
din, did  you  get  that  dress  ?— And  where  this  service  ? " 

"  The  dress  was  brought  to  me  this  morning,  my  lady,  and 
the  mantua-maker  told  me  that  it  had  been  ordered  by  your- 
self ;  the  jeweller  who  brought  the  services  of  silver  told  me 
the  same  thing." 

"II"  cried  the  countess.    "  I  order  such  costly  things  ? " 

"Why,  yes,  my  lady,  for  the  upholsterers  have  almost 
arranged  the  beautiful  furniture  you  bought  yesterday." 

The  countess  smiled.  **  This  is  a  prank  of  some  carnival- 
mad  jester,  child,"  said  she.  "  There  is  not  a  word  of  truth  in 
it.    I  wish  there  were  I " 

"  It  is  as  true  as  that  there  are  at  least  fifty  workmen  in  the 
palace  at  this  very  moment,"  was  Marietta's  reply. 

Lucretia  made  no  answer.  She  sprang  from  her  ottoman, 
and,  crossing  the  room,  threw  open  the  door  leading  into  the 
next  saloon. 


302  PRINCE   EUGENE  AND  HIS   TIMES. 

Marietta  had  spoken  the  sober  truth.  There  they  were  all 
— fifty — some  hanging  satin  curtains  before  the  bare  windows, 
others  placing  lofty  mirrors  in  the  recesses  ;  one  detachment 
uncovering  the  gilded  furniture,  another  arranging  it,  while 
the  last  folds  of  a  rich  Turkey  carpet  were  being  smoothed  in 
the  corners  of  the  room,  where  dainty  tables  held  vases  of 
costly  workmanship,  filled  with  rare  flowers. 

At  first  the  countess  had  been  struck  dumb  and  motionless. 
Recovering  herself,  however,  after  a  moment  or  two,  she  went 
hastily  up  to  the  person  who  seemed  to  direct  the  proceedings, 
and  accosted  him  : 

"  Will  you  oblige  me  by  saying  who  ordered  all  this  furni- 
ture?" 

"  Her  ladyship,  the  Countess  de  Canossa,"  was  the  man's 
reply. 

"  Are  you  acquainted  with  the  counters  ?  "  asked  Lucretia. 

"  No,  madame  ;  I  have  not  that  honor." 

"  Then,  how  do  you  know  that  you  are  acting  by  her  or- 
ders?" 

"I  received  them  yesterday  through  her  steward." 

"  Her  steward  ?    And  have  you  seen  him  since  ? " 

"  Yes,  madame.  He  came  again  this  morning  very  early, 
to  see  whether  we  were  punctual.  It  was  all  to  be  completed 
by  one  o'clock,  and,  as  it  is  not  quite  ten,  you  perceive  that  we 
will  certainly  have  done  in  time.  But  I  must  ask  you  to  see 
the  countess  and  request  permission  for  the  workmen  to  be  ad- 
mitted to  her  boudoir.  Will  you  be  so  good  as  to  convey  the 
message  ? " 

Lucretia  cast  a  glance  of  shame  at  her  faded  gown.  "  Ha 
does  not  know  me,"  thought  she,  "and  how  should  he  in 
such  a  guise  ? "  Then  she  added,  aloud,  "  I  will  apprise  the 
countess." 

Marietta  was  now  in  the  dressing-room,  whither  she  re- 
quested the  presence  of  her  mistress  immediately. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  asked  the  bewildered  Lucretia. 

''  The  dressmaker  is  there,  signora,  to  see  if  your  dresses  are 
to  your  taste,"  replied  Marietta. 

"  Let  me  see  them,"  cried  she,  impatiently. 

Marietta  drew  from  a  box  a  dress  of  pink  satin,  which. 


THE  NEGOTIATOR.  303 

fK)m  its  make,  was  evidently  intended  for  an  under-skirt. 
"  There  is  another,  just  like  it,  of  blue  satin,"  exclaimed  the 
em'aptured  lady's  maid,  "and  here  is  a  box  containing  two 
peignoirs  of  guipure,  with  morning  caps  to  match.  How 
beautiful  your  ladyship  will  look  in  these  negliges  !  " 

"  We  will  see  at  once  whether  I  do,"  answered  Lucretia, 
clapping  her  hands  with  joy.  "  Here  Mai'ietta — quick  I  Help 
me  off  with  this  hateful  gown,  and  hand  me  the  pink- satin 
petticoat." 

In  a  few  moments  the  mistress  and  maid  were  equally 
happy,  while  the  former  was  being  decked  in  her  magnificent 
neglige.  The  satin  petticoat  was  loose  ;  and  over  it  was  thrown 
the  guipure  peignoir  which  reached  to  the  throat,  and  was  con- 
fined at  the  waist  by  a  pink  sash.  The  full  sleeves  were  open, 
leaving  half-covered,  half-exposed,  Lucretia's  arms,  firm  and 
white  as  Carrara  marble. 

"  Now  this  love  of  a  lace  cap,"  cried  Marietta,  placing  it 
with  great  coquetry  around  the  black  braids  of  Lucretia's  glossy 
hair ;  while  the  latter,  quite  reconciled  to  the  wonders  that 
were  being  enacted  around  her,  was  profoundly  engaged  in 
admiring  herself  in  a  looking-glass. 

"  And  now,"  said  Marietta,  "  you  are  ready,  and  certainly 
you  are  as  lovely  as  a  fairy." 

"  Fairy,  say  you  ?  Yes  ;  that  seems  to  be  the  appropriate 
name  for  one  who  is  the  recipient  of  such  extraordinary  riches 
as  these.  But  now,  Marietta,  whence  do  they  come  ?  Are  they 
from  my  brother  ? " 

"  Signora,  I  know  no  more  thsm  I  have  told  you.  Yester- 
day a  gentleman  (I  think  he  must  have  been  a  Frenchman) 
came  hither,  announced  himself  as  an  architect,  and  told  me 
that  your  ladyship  had  sent  him  to  examine  the  palace,  with  a 
view  to  refurnishing  it  with  great  magnificence." 

"Bid  you  take  him  over  the  rooms  ? " 

*'  Of  course  I  did,  my  lady.  He  took  various  notes  as  he 
went  along,  and  remained  longer  in  your  boudoir  than  in  any 
room  in  the  palace.  He  sat  down  and  made  a  drawing  of  it, 
asking  me«  now  and  then,  a  question  as  to  your  ladyship's 
tastes  and  habits." 

"  Gracious  Heaven  1 "  exclaimed  the  countess,  while  a  pain- 


804  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

ful  blush  overspread  her  face,  "  has  he  been  here  to  see  my 
need  and  hear  of  my  privations  ?  Can  he  have  been  the  secret 
giver  of  all  this  magnificence  ? " 

As  the  possibility  that  the  Elector  of  Bavaria  was  her  un- 
known benefactor,  presented  itself  to  Lucretia's  mind,  her 
humiliation  grew  extreme  ;  for  if  these  gifts  were  from  him, 
they  proved  that  he  held  the  daughter  of  the  noble  house  of 
Strozzi  to  be  a  creature  that  was  to  be  bought  with  gold,  with- 
out the  poor  pretence  of  one  word  of  love. 

"  When  came  he,  and  what  sort  of  looking  man  was  he  ?  '* 
asked  she,  frowning. 

"He  came  just  after  the  regatta  had  begun,  signora." 

**  Then,  God  be  praised,  it  was  not  he ! "  said  Lucretia  to 
herself,  "  for  at  that  hour,  he  was  with  me,  in  Count  Comaro's 
gondola." 

A  faint  knock  was  heard  at  the  door,  and  the  decorateur 
begged  permission  to  enter.  His  coming  awakened  the  count- 
ess from  her  reverie,  and  she  hastily  bade  him  come  in,  "  for," 
said  she,  "it  must  be  almost  one  o'clock." 

"  The  clock  on  the  mantel  of  the  drawing-room  has  just 
struck  eleven,  your  ladyship,"  replied  the  man,  who,  now  tha;:> 
she  was  richly  dressed,  recognized  the  lady  of  the  house. 

"  So,"  thought  Lucretia,  "  I  have  a  clock  !  "  and  she  bound- 
ed off  to  the  drawing-room  to  see  it.  Marietta  followed  with 
the  chocolate,  which,  in  the  excitement  of  the  moment,  had 
been  forgotten. 

"  True,"  said  the  countess.  "  bring  me  my  breakfast,  and  let 
me  take  it  here  in  this  beautiful  apartment.  Who  is  that  at 
the  door  ? "  added  she,  as  Marietta  went  forward  to  open  it. 

"  Your  ladyship's  butler,"  replied  she.  "  He  comes  to  know 
whether  the  dejeuner  a  la  f ourchette  is  to  be  served  in  the  bou- 
doir or  in  the  banqueting-hall." 

"  Let  it  be  in  the  banqueting-hall,  for  I  may  have  several 
guests." 

"  The  steward  ordered  it  for  one  o'clock,  my  lady.  He  said 
that  you  expected  some  guests  of  distinction." 

"  My  steward  ? "  repeated  Lucretia,  smiling.  "  So  it  seems 
that  I  have  an  entire  household.  Let  us  go  over  our  altered 
domains,  Marietta."    And  the  two  went  from  room  to  room, 


THE  NEGOTIATOR.  305 

the  femme  de  cbambre  as  delighted  as  her  mistress,  until  they 
descended  as  far  as  the  kitchen.  Here  every  thing  gave  evi- 
dence that  the  dejeuner  was  to  be  a  rare  one.  Two  cooks,  in 
white,  presided  over  the  arrangements,  and  two  scullions  were 
busy  carrying  out  the  orders  of  the  chief.  They  were  so  ab- 
sorbed in  their  business,  that  they  did  not  perceive  the  countess 
who  stood  in  the  door. 

Presently  from  the  storeroom  opposite  there  emerged  a 
man  with  baskets  of  bottles,  which  he  deposited  on  the  table, 
saying: 

"  Here  is  Burgundy  for  the  Bayonne  ham.  The  champagne, 
sherry,  and  constantia,  are  for  the  table." 

The  countess  had  now  seen  and  heard  enough.  Not  only 
was  her  palace  fitted  up,  but  her  kitchen  was  in  order,  and  her 
wine-cellar  filled.  So  she  returned  to  the  drawing-room,  where 
she  was  met  with  the  tidings  that  her  boudoir  was  ready  for 
occupation,  and  nothing  now  remained  to  be  done,  unless  her 
ladyship  had  any  alterations  to  suggest,  or  deficiencies  to  point 
out. 

Her  ladyship  professed  herself  satisfied,  and  then  came  a 
moment  of  embarrassment.     "  As  regards  the  payment — " 

"  Oh,  signora,  the  steward  is  to  meet  me  at  twelve  o'clock, 
to  arrange  that  matter."  And  with  these  words  he  took  his 
leave. 

''I  ought  to  have  followed  him,"  thought  Lucretia,  *'to 
solve  this  agreeable  riddle,  by  making  acquaintance  with  my 
steward.  But  pshaw  I  I  shall  soon  know  all  about  it.  Nobody 
has  made  me  these  presents  without  intending  to  get  a  word 
of  thanks  for  the  benefaction." 

She  had  scarcely  seated  herself  in  a  new  and  beautiful  otto- 
man, which  had  replaced  her  faded,  rickety  old  couch,  before 
a  servant  appeared  and  announced, 

"  Her  ladyship^s  steward  I " 

"  My  ladyship's  steward  I "  echoed  Lucretia.  "  Do  let  us 
make  his  acquaintance." 

He  came  in — a  small,  slender  man,  apparently  young,  with 
a  pair  of  twinkling  black  eyes,  and  a  countenance  expressive 
of  great  energy.  With  the  air  of  a  finished  gentleman  he 
bowed,  advanced,  and  bowed  again. 


306  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

"  Signer,"  said  the  countess,  "  you  have  been  announced  by 
a  title  which  I  have  no  right  to  bestow  upon  any  person  living 
^that  of  my  steward.     Pray  tell  me  who  you  are." 

"Gracious  countess,"  answered  he,  smiling,  "I  have  the 
honor  to  present  myself.  I  am  the  Marquis  de  Villars,  am- 
bassador of  his  majesty  the  Eling  of  France  to  the  court  of 
Bavaria." 

"  And  may  I  ask  why,  in  addition  to  your  other  representa- 
tive titles,  you  have  assumed  that  of  steward  to  the  Countess 
of  Canossa  ? " 

"Because,  signora,  seeing  that  your  habitation  was  not 
worthy  of  you,  I  have  ventured  to  perform  the  duties  of  a 
faithful  steward,  by  fitting  it  up  in  a  manner  which  I  hope  is 
agreeable  to  the  divinity  at  whose  shrine  the  elector  is  now  a 
worshipper  ? " 

"  Did  the  elector  suggest—"  began  Lucretia,  reddening. 

"  Oh  no,  signora  ;  he  knows  nothing  of  the  little  surprise  I 
have  prepared  for  you.     It  does  not  concern  him  at  all." 

"  Then  I  am  to  suppose  that  Count  Canossa,  having  gam- 
bled away  my  very  home,  this  palace  has  become  your  prop- 
erty, and  I  am  here  on  sufferance.     How  long  may  I  remain  ? " 

"  How  long  may  you  remain  in  your  own  home  !  Signora, 
all  that  you  see  has  been  done  for  you,  in  your  own  name,  and 
I  hope  you  will  do  me  the  honor  to  accept  it." 

"  From  whom  ?  " 

"You  shall  learn  as  soon  as  we  understand  each  other,  sig- 
nora." 

"  Then  let  us  come  to  an  understanding  at  once,  for  the 
Countess  Canossa  does  not  receive  princely  gifts  from  stran- 
gers." 

"  Of  course  not,  nor  would  a  stranger  take  so  unpardonable 
a  liberty  with  a  lady  of  her  rank  and  birth.  But  before  going 
further,  let  me  assure  you,  signora,  that  you  are  under  obliga- 
tions to  nobody  for  the  little  surprise  I  have  prepared  for  you. 
Not  in  the  least  to  me,  for  I  am  but  the  representative  of  him 
who  begs  your  acceptance  of  it." 

"  You  speak  in  riddles,"  said  Lucretia,  with  a  shrug.  "  But, 
at  all  events,  I  understand  that  this  furniture,  silver,  and  these 
rich  dresses,  are  mine  ? " 


THE  NEGOTIATOR.  307 

"  Assiiredly  yours,  si^ora." 

"  Then  let  me  inform  you  that  in  a  week,  at  farthest,  they 
will  go,  as  they  came,  in  the  space  of  a  few  hours.  Count  Ca- 
nossa  will  have  lost  them  at  the  gaming-table,  and  the  palazzo 
will  be  in  the  same  condition  as  it  was  yesterday." 

"  Count  Canossa  is  powerless  to  touch  the  least  portion  of 
your  property,  signora," 

"  Powerless  ?  How  !  Are  you  a  sorcerer,  and  have  you 
changed  him  into  stone  ?    Or  have  you  spirited  him  away  ? " 

"  I  have  sph'ited  him  away,  signora.  I  have  persuaded  him 
by  the  eloquence  of  gold  to  forsake  Venice,  forever.  As  long 
as  he  remains  in  Paris,  he  is  to  receive  a  yearly  pension  from 
the  King  of  France." 

"  Grone  to  Paris  !  Pensioned  by  the  King  of  France  I  "  ex- 
claimed Lucretia. 

"  Gone,  signora  ;  and,  in  leaving,  he  desired  me  to  say  to 
you  that  he  hoped  you  would  forgive  all  the  unhappiness  he 
had  caused  you  since  your  marriage." 

"  Gone  !  Gone  1  Am  I  then  free  ? "  cried  Lucretia,  start- 
ing from  her  ottoman,  and  grasping  the  hand  of  the  mar- 
quis. 

"Yes,  signora.  You  are  free  to  bestow  your  heart  on 
whomsoever  you  will.  Count  Canossa  will  never  molest  you 
more. " 

"  Oh  how  I  thank  you  I  How  I  thank  you  1 "  replied  she, 
her  beautiful  eyes  filling  with  tears  of  joy.  ''  But  tell  me," 
added  she,  after  a  short  pause— "tell  me,  if  you  please,  the 
meaning  of  all  this  providential  interference  with  my  domestic 
affairs?" 

"  I  am  ready,  signora,"  said  the  marquis,  waiting  for  the 
countess  to  resume  her  seat,  and  then  placing  himself  at  her 
side.  "  Perhaps  in  your  leisure  hours  you  may  have  interested 
yourself  in  European  politics." 

"  Not  I,"  said  Lucretia,  emphatically. 

"  Then  allow  me  to  enlighten  you  on  the  subject,"  replied 
the  marquis. 

**  To  what  end  ? "  inquired  she,  impatiently. 

"  I  will  not  detain  you  long,  signora.  Give  me  but  a  few 
moments  of  your  attention.    Doubtless  you  have  heard  that 


308  PRINCE  EUGEXE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

the  Emperor  of  Austria,  for  several  years  past,  has  been  at  war 
with  the  Porte?" 

Lucretia  nodded,  and  the  marquis  went  on.  "  Perhaps  it 
will  interest  you  to  know  that  the  Elector  of  Bavaria  is  an  ally 
of  the  emperor,  and  has  distinguished  himself  greatly,  particu- 
larly at  the  siege  of  Buda." 

"Oh,  I  can  believe  it,"  cried  she,  with  animation.  "He 
looks  like  a  hero.  Tell  me,  pray,  something  abovt  his  ex- 
ploits." 

"  Later,  signora,  with  pleasure ;  but  for  the  present  we 
must  discuss  politics.  Now  the  Emperor  of  Austria  is  fast  get- 
ting the  better  of  the  Sultan  ;  and  if  the  latter  should  succumb 
in  this  war,  the  former  would  not  only  be  left  with  too  much 
power  for  the  good  of  Europe  generally,  but  would  become  a 
dangerous  rival  to  the  King  of  France.  Now  it  is  important 
for  my  sovereign  that  the  victories  of  Austria  cease,  and  that 
Austria's  power  wax  no  greater.  Have  I  expressed  myseK 
clearly  ?    Do  you  understand  ?  " 

'*  I  begin  to  understand,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Now,  there  are  various  ways  of  crippling  the  resources  of 
Austria ;  for  example,  her  allies  might  be  estranged.  Have 
patience,  signora ;  in  a  few  moments  my  politics  will  grow 
personal  and  interesting.  One  of  the  emperor's  most  power- 
ful allies  is  the  Elector  of  Bavaria." 

"  Of  course,"  cried  Lucretia,  delighted  with  the  turn  that 
politics  were  taking.  *'  Of  course  he  is,  being  the  emperor's 
son-in-law.  Tell  me  about  the  elector's  wife.  Is  she  hand- 
some ?    Does  he  love  her  ? " 

"  Signora,  as  regards  your  latter  question,  the  elector  him- 
self will  have  great  pleasure  in  answering  it.  As  regards  the 
former,  the  Archduchess  Antonia  is  handsome,  but  sickly,  and 
her  ill-health  has  lost  her  the  affection  of  her  husband." 

"  Ah  !  "  cried  Lucretia,  relieved,  "  he  does  not  love  her." 

"■  He  loves  her  no  longer,"  said  the  marquis.  "  But  he  was 
greatly  taken  by  the  charms  of  the  Countess  Kaunitz  ;  and  as 
the  elector's  alliance  with  Austria  was  a  matter  of  more  im- 
portance than  his  conjugal  relations  with  the  archduchess,  the 
husband  of  the  fair  countess  was  appointed  ambassador  to  Ba- 
varia, and  his  wife  ambassadress.    It  was  through  the  influ- 


THE  NEGOTIATOR.  309 

e!ice  of  this  charming  ambassadress  that  Max  Emmanuel  joined 
the  forces  of  Austria." 

'*  So  he  has  a  mistress,  then  ?    One  whom  he  loves  ? " 

"  Whom  he  loved  until  he  saw  the  Coimtess  Canossa." 

*'  Do  you  think  I  could  supplant  her  ?  "  exclaimed  Lucretia, 
her  large  eyes  darting  fire  at  the  thought. 

"I  do  not  doubt  it,"  was  the  flattering  reply.  "If  you 
choose,  you  can  trample  under  foot  this  arrogant  Austrian, 
who  flatters  herself  that  Max  Emmanuel  is  all  her  own." 

"  I  would  like  to  try,"  cried  Lucretia,  with  the  air  of  an 
amazon  about  to  go  into  battle. 

"  Then  let  me  offer  my  services,"  said  the  marquis,  bowing. 
**  The  elector  is  peculiar,  and  has  pretensions  to  be  loved  for 
his  own  sake  ;  therefore  he  would  never  quite  trust  the  disin- 
terested affections  of  a  woman  whom  he  had  power  to  raise 
from  poverty  to  affluence." 

'*  Ah  !  "  cried  Lucretia,  with  a  significant  bend  of  the  head. 
''^Now  I  begin  to  apprehend  your  meaning  as  well  as  your 
munificence." 

"Signora,"  said  De  Villars,  with  equal  significance,  "the 
King  of  France  seeks  a  friend  who  wdll  alienate  the  elector 
from  Austria,  and  win  him  for  France.  WUl  you  accept  the 
trust  ? " 

"  But  you  said  that  he  loved  another  woman." 

"  So  much  the  greater  will  be  your  glory  in  the  conquest, 
for  the  countess  is  beautiful  and  fascinating." 

"  Is  she  in  Venice  ? " 

"Wherever  the  elector  goes,  thither  she  is  sure  to  fol- 
low." 

"  She  must  leave  Venice  ;  she  must  be  forced  to  leave  I " 
cried  the  vindictive  Italian,  ready  to  hate  the  woman  whom 
Max  Emmanuel  loved. 

"  You  must  do  better.  Induce  the  elector  to  forsake  her, 
and  leave  her  in  Venice  like  another  Didone  abbandonata, 
"While  you  carry  him  in  triumph  back  to  Munich." 

"I  will,  indeed  I  will  1 "  exclaimed  Lucretia,  exultingly. 

**  Ah,  signora,"  said  the  marquis,  coaxingly,  "  what  a  mag- 
nanimous and  disinterested  nature  you  display  1  You  accede 
to  my  request  without  naming  conditions.    Allow  me  to  ad' 


310  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

mire  your  nobleness,  and  believe  me  when  I  say  that  my  royal 
master  shall  hear  of  it." 

"  Well,  tell  him  that,  if  it  lies  in  my  power,  Max  Emmanuel 
shall  iearn  to  dislike  Austria  and  love  France." 

"  Signora,  you  are  the  instrument  of  a  great  purpose.  I 
give  you  a  whole  year  wherein  to  work  ;  and  if,  at  the  end  of 
that  time,  you  have  prevailed  upon  the  elector  to  sign  a  treaty 
of  alliance  with  France,  you^  as  one  of  France's  noblest  allies, 
shall  receive  from  my  royal  master  one  million  of  francs. 
Meanwhile  you  shall  have  ten  thousand  francs  a  month  for 
pin-money." 

"  Alas  ! "  said  Lucretia,  "  I  am  forced  to  accept ;  for  my 
husband  has  so  effectually  impoverished  me  that  I  live  on  the 
bounty  of  my  brother.  And  he  is  so  arrogant  that  I  am  al- 
most as  glad  to  be  independent  of  him  as  to  be  delivered  from 
my  detestable  husband.  I  shall  endeavor  to  let  my  acts  speak 
my  gratitude  for  the  deliverance." 

''  Allow  me,  signora,  to  present  you  with  your  pocket-mon- 
ey for  this  present  month,  and  give  me  a  receipt  in  the  shape 
of  your  fair  hand  to  kiss." 

So  saying,  he  laid  a  purse  of  gold  at  Lucretia's  feet,  and 
covered  her  hand  with  kisses. 

"  I  shall  want  to  consult  you  frequently,  dear  marquis,'  ob- 
served Lucretia. 

"  I  shall  always  be  at  your  service."         • 

"  And  now,  I  take  it  as  a  matter  of  course,  that  what  has 
passed  between  us  this  morning  is  to  remain  a  profound  se- 
cret." 

"As  a  matter  of  course,  signora,  it  goes  no  further,"  re- 
turned De  Yillars,  *  "  and  to  insure  perfect  secrecy,  you  must 
pretend  not  to  know  me  when  we  meet  abroad.  Not  even  the 
elector — or,  perhaps  I  should  say,  above  all  men,  the  elector  is 
not  to  know  of  my  visit.  I  must,  therefore,  take  my  leave, 
for — hark  !  your  clock  strikes  one,  and  lovers  are  sure  to  be 
punctual." 

"  I  shall  expect  you  every  morning  at  eleven  ;  and  so  we 
can  take  counsel  together,  and  I  can  report  daily  progress  to 
you." 

*  "  Memoirs  of  tlie  Marquis  de  Villars,"  vol.  L,  p.  104. 


THE  LOVERS  REUNITED.  811 

"  Aurevoir,  then,  signora.  Allow  me  one  word  more.  If^ 
before  the  close  of  the  carnival,  you  leave  Venice  in  company 
with  the  elector,  I  shall  take  the  liberty  of  refunding  to  you 
the  entire  cost  of  the  refurnishing  of  your  palace  to-day,  as 
compensation  for  its  temporary  loss.  And  now,  fairest  of  the 
allies  of  Finance,  adieu  !  " 

The  French  ambassador  had  hardly  time  to  make  his  es- 
cape, before  the  doors  of  the  drawing-room  were  flung  open, 
and  the  lackej'  announced,  "  His  highness  the  Elector  of  Ba- 
varia I" 


CHAPTER  Vn. 

THE  LOVERS  REUNITED. 

Two  weeks  had  elapsed  since  that  unhappy  meeting  be- 
tween Eugene  and  Laura— two  weeks  of  expectation  and  hope 
frustrated.  In  vain  had  Eugene  attempted  to  reach  her  with 
a  message  ;  in  vain  had  he  remained  for  hours  before  her  win- 
dows ;  in  vain  had  Antonio  tried  to  penetrate  into  her  presence. 
Day  after  day  came  the  same  sorrowful  news  :  the  marchion- 
ess was  very  ill,  and  no  one  was  allowed  to  pass  the  threshold 
of  the  palace.  Her  husband  watched  day  and  night  at  her 
bedside,  and,  excepting  Mademoiselle  Victorine,  no  living 
creature  was  allowed  to  enter  her  room. 

When,  for  the  fourteenth  time,  Antonio  returned  unsuc- 
cessful from  his  mission,  Eugene  became  so  agitated  and  grew 
so  pale  that  the  bravo  was  touched  to  the  heart,  and,  taking 
the  prince's  hand,  covered  it  with  kisses. 

**  Do  not  be  so  cast  down,  excellenza,"  said  he,  imploringly  ; 
**  have  courage,  and  hope  for  the  best.'' 

**  Oh,  Antonio  1 "  murmured  the  prince,  *'  she  is  dead  !  " 

"  No,  excellenza,  no  1  I  swear  to  you  that  she  lives,  nor 
do  I  believe  one  word  of  this  rumored  illness." 

*'  Why  should  you  not  believe  it,  my  friend  ? " 

^  Because  I  know  the  marquis  well ;  and  this  is  merely  a 
pretext  for  keeping  his  wife  imprisoned." 

"  Thank  you,  Antonio,  thank  you,"  replied  Eugene,  "  for 

Si 


312  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIME& 

this  ray  of  hope.  Then  I  depend  upon  you  to  deliver  my  mes- 
sage sooner  or  later.  Eemembpr  my  words  :  '  The  Prince  of 
Savoy  knows  why  the  marchioness  did  not  speak  to  him.  He 
lives,  loves,  and  hopes.'  And  if  you  will  but  return  to  me 
with  one  word  from  her  lips,  I  will  feel  grateful  to  you  for 
life,  Antonio." 

"  I  will  serve  you  with  my  life,  excellenza,"  said  Antonio, 
bowing  and  leaving  the  room. 

He  had  not  been  long  away,  before  the  door  was  opened, 
and  Conrad  announced  the  Elector  of  Bavaria. 

''  I  have  come  to  entice  the  hermit  of  the  Capello  out  of  his 
cell,"  cried  Max  Emmanuel.  "  My  dear  Eugene,  was  ever  a 
man  so  obstinate  a  recluse  ?  Every  time  I  come  I  am  told  that 
you  are  at  the  arsenal,  the  dock-yards,  the  armory,  a  picture- 
gallery,  or  some  other  retreat  of  arts  and  sciences." 

"  Well,  dear  Max,  I  am  a  student,  and  find  much  to  learn 
in  Venice." 

"  To  whom  do  you  say  that  ? "  cried  Max,  laughing.  "  As 
if  I,  too,  were  not  a  student,  only  that  my  tastes  lie  not  in  the 
same  direction  as  yours,  and  as  if  I  were  not  making  tremen- 
dous progress  in  my  studies  !  " 

*'  No  wonder :  you  are  far  advanced  in  every  branch  of 
learning,  while  I  am  but  a  neophyte." 

"  No  such  thing  ;  you  are  much  more  deeply  learned  than 
I ;  but  you  are  the  victim  of  an  unfortunate  passion  which  you 
are  striving  to  smother  under  a  weight  of  study,  while  I— I, 
my  dear  fellow,  am  distancing  you  every  hour  of  the  day,  for 
my  studies  are  all  concentrated  upon  the  'art  of  love.'  " 

"  God  speed  you,  then,  and  deliver  you  from  the  malady 
that  is  wasting  away  my  life  !  " 

"■  You  are  an  incomprehensible  being,  Eugene.  I  cannot 
comprehend  your  dogged  fidelity  to  such  an  abstraction  as  a 
woman  whom  you  never  see.  You  have  not  trusted  me  with 
your  secret,  and  yet  I  might  have  done  you  some  service  had 
you  been  more  frank  with  me." 

"  You  mock  me,"  replied  Eugene,  gloomily. 

"No,  Eugene,  I  do  not  mock  you.  I  know  your  secret, 
despite  your  taciturnity.  I  know  that  you  love  the  Marchion- 
ess Strozzi,  and  that  the  jealousy  of  her  husband  is  such  that 


THE  LOVERS  REUNITED.  818 

you  have  not  been  able  to  speak  a  word  with,  her  since  your 
arrival  in  Venice.'* 

"  Who  could  have  told  you  ? " 

"  My  houri — she  whose  love  has  made  of  Venice  a  Mussul- 
man's paradise  to  me.  Oh,  Eugene  !  I  am  the  happiest  man 
alive  !  I  am  beloved  and  loved  for  myself.  My  beautiful 
mistress  is  noble  and  rich  ;  she  refuses  all  my  gifts,  and  yet 
she  is  about  to  give  me  unequivocal  proof  of  her  love  :  she  is 
about  to  leave  her  lovely  Italian  home,  and  fly  with  me  to 
Munich." 

"  Are  you  about  to  leave  Venice  so  soon  ? " 

*'  The  archduchess  is  dangerously  ill,  and  yesterday  a  cou- 
rier was  sent  to  summon  me  home.  And,  would  you  believe 
it  ?  my  Lucretia  consents  to  accompany  me,  on  condition  that 
I  force  no  gifts  upon  her  acceptance,  but  allow  her  to  furnish 
her  house  in  Munich  at  her  own  expense.  Did  you  ever  hear 
of  such  disinterestedness?  Now  I  am  about  to  give  you  a 
proof  of  my  confidence,  and  tell  you  the  name  of  my  mistress. 
It  is  the  Countess  Canossa.  Well !— You  are  not  overjoyed  ? 
You  do  not  understand  ! — " 

*'  How  should  I  be  overjoyed  or  understand,  when  I  do  not 
know  the  lady,  Max  ? " 

''Great  goodness,  is  it  possible  that  this  unconscionable 
snail  has  lived  so  closely  in  his  shell  that  he  does  not  know 
how  fortunate  for  him  it  is,  that  the  Countess  Canossa  loves 
me  I  Hear  me,  Eugene.  My  Lucretia  is  the  sister  of  the  Mar- 
quis de  Strozzi." 

"  My  enemy  1 "  murmured  Eugene,  his  brow  suddenly 
darkening. 

"  Yes  ;  but  not  his  sister's  friend  ;  for  although  he  makes  a 
confidante  of  her,  she  hates  him.  Ekcept  Victorine,  the  count- 
ess is  the  only  person  permitted  to  have  access  to  her  sister-in- 
law's  apartments." 

Eugene's  eyes  now  brightened  with  expectation,  and  he 
looked  g^tefully  up  into  the  elector's  handsome,  fiushed 
face. 

**  Yes,  Eugene,  yes,"  continued  Max,  "  and  through  her  an- 
gelic goodness,  you  shall  visit  your  Laur&.  To-day,  Lucretia 
appears  as  Mary  Stuart,  at  a  masked  entertainment  given  by 


314  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

Admiral  Mocenigo.  Before  she  goes,  she  is  to  show  ofip  her 
dress  to  the  poor  prisoner  of  the  Palazzo  Strozzi.  Her  long- 
train  is  to  be  borne  by  a  page,  who  of  course  will  have  to  fol- 
low whithersoever  Mary  Stuart  goes.  This  page  is  to  be  your- 
self, my  boy  ! " 

Eugene  threw  himself  into  the  elector's  arms.  He  was  too 
happy  for  speech. 

At  noon,  on  the  same  day,  the  gondola  of  the  Countess  Ca- 
nossa  stopped  before  the  Palazzo  Strozzi.  The  countess,  dressed 
in  a  magnificent  costume,  went  slowJy  up  the  marble  stairs, 
her  long  train  of  white  satin  borne  by  a  page  in  purple  velvet. 
His  face,  like  that  of  his  mistress,  was  hidden  by  a  mask  ;  and 
the  broad  red  scarf  which  was  tied  around  his  slender  waist, 
confined  a  small  dagger  whose  hilt  was  set  in  precious  stones. 
His  eyes  were  so  large  and  bright  that  the  mask  could  not  en- 
tirely conceal  their  beauty ;  and  it  was  perhaps  because  of 
their  splendor  that  the  porter  hesitated  to  admit  him  within 
the  palace. 

The  countess,  who  had  gone  a  few  steps  before,  turned  care- 
lessly round,  and  asked  why  her  page  did  not  follow. 

"  Your  ladyship,"  replied  Beppo,  the  porter,  "  the  marquis 
has  forbidden  the  admission  of  strangers." 

"  And  you  call  that  poor,  little  fellow  of  mine  a  stranger  ? 
You  might  as  well  ask  me  to  cut  off  my  train,  as  expect  me  to 
wear  it  without  my  page  !— Come,  Filippo,  come  !  " 

Filippo  passed  on,  while  the  old  porter  grumbled. 

"  Never  mind,  Beppo,"  said  the  countess,  looking  back  kind- 
ly, "  I  will  tell  my  brother  of  your  over-watchfulness,  and  in- 
form him  what  a  love  of  a  Cerberus  he  has  for  a  porter. "  And 
on  she  went,  having  reached  the  top  of  the  staircase,  before 
Filippo  and  the  train  had  gone  half  way. 

Mademoiselle  Yictorine  was  awaiting  their  arrival,  and 
made  a  profound  courtesy  to  Lucretia. 

''Signora,  the  marchioness  awaits  you  in  her  boudoir." 

"  And  the  marquis  laiows  that  I  am  here  ? " 

"  Yes,  signora.  He  was  anxious  to  accompany  you  in  your 
visit  to  my  lady  ;  but  she  would  not  consent ;  and  you  know 
that  he  dares  not  go  without  it.  He  never  has  crossed  the 
threshold  of  her  dressing-room." 


THE  LOVERS  REUNITED.  315 

"  I  know  it  well.  Now  go  and  announce  my  visit  to  her. 
But  first,  go  to  the  marquis  and  tell  him  that,  as  soon  as  I  shall 
have  returned  from  the  apartments  of  my  sister-in-law,  I  wish 
to  see  him  in  his  cabinet,  on  important  business." 

This  was  spoken  in  an  elevated  tone,  so  that  all  the  spies, 
whom  Lucretia  knew  to  be  eavesdropping  around,  might  hear 
her  words  and  repeat  them. 

"  I  go,  signora,"  replied  Victorine,  in  the  same  tone  ;  but 
she  added  in  a  whisper  to  the  page,  "  For  God's  sake,  be  dis- 
creet ! " 

The  lady's  maid,  in  obedience  to  Lucretia's  orders,  went 
directly  to  the  cabinet  of  Strozzi,  while  the  countess  proceeded 
in  an  opposite  direction.  At  the  end  of  the  grand  corridor 
was  a  lofty  door,  which,  being  shut,  the  countess  remained 
stationary  ;  while  Filippo,  who  seemed  not  to  have  remarked 
it,  went  on  with  his  train,  until  he  stood  immediately  behind 
his  mistress. 

She  chided  him  for  his  familiarity.  '*  Back,  Filippo,"  said 
8he^  impatiently.  "  When  I  stop,  how  do  you  presume  to  go 
on  ?    You  are  too  unmannerly  for  a  page  I  " 

Filippo  murmured  a  few  unintelligible  words,  and  retreat- 
ed, while  the  countess  knocked  several  times  at  the  door. 

"  It  is  I,  Laura,  the  Countess  de  Canossa." 

If  anybody  had  been  near,  the  beatings  of  poor  Filippo's 
heart  might  have  been  heard  during  the  pause  that  ensued  be- 
fore the  door  was  opened.  At  length  its  heavy  panels  were 
seen  to  move,  and  a  sweet,  soft  voice  was  heard  : 

"CJome  in,  dear  Lucretia." 

The  countess  disappeared  within  ;  but  scarcely  had  she  en- 
tered the  room  before  she  grasped  Laura's  arm,  and  hurried 
her  into  the  room  beyond. 

**  Not  here,  not  here,"  whispered  she.  "  Go  into  your  pri- 
vate apartment,  Laura.  In  this  one  you  would  be  unsafe. 
There  will  be  listeners  at  the  door." 

Laura  made  no  reply  ;  she  flew  back  and  disappeared  be- 
hind the  portiere  that  led  into  her  boudoir.  The  countess 
looked  back  at  her  page,  who  leaned  trembling  against  a  mar- 
ble column  close  by. 

"Shut  the  door,  Filippo,"  said  she,  "  and  await  me  here.    I 


316  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

will  see  the  marchioness  in  her  boudoir,  and  Mademoiselle 
Yictorine  will  be  bftck  presently,  to  entertain  you." 

The  door  was  shut,  and  Filippo,  letting  Maiy  Stuart's  train 
drop  without  further  ceremony,  sprang  forward  and  touched 
the  arm  of  his  royal  mistress. 

"  Where  is  she  ? " 

"In  her  boudoir."  The  page  would  have  gone  thither  at 
once ;  but  Lucretia  stopped  him.  "  Mark  my  words  well. 
Speak  low  ;  and  when  Yictorine  summons  you  away,  obey  at 
once,  for  delay  may  cost  you  your  life.  And  now,  impatient 
youth,  begone  ! " 

They  were  together.  Laura  would  have  sprung  forward  to 
meet  him,  but  emotion  paralyzed  her  limbs,  and  chained  her 
to  the  floor.  He  clasped  her  in  his  loving  arms,  kissed  her 
again  and  again,  and  each  felt  the  wild  throbbing  of  the  oth- 
er's heart.  Forgotten  were  the  long  years  of  their  parting, 
forgotten  all  doubt,  all  anguish.  It  seemed  but  yesterday  that 
they  had  plighted  their  troth  in  that  moonlit  pavilion  ;  and 
nothing  lay  between,  save  one  long  night  which  now  had 
passed  away,  leaving  the  dawn  of  a  day  that  was  radiant  with 
sunshine. 

*'I  have  thee  once  more,  my  own  i  Close — close  to  my 
heart,  and  would  to  God  thou  couldst  grow  there,  blending 
our  dual  being  into  one  !  " 

*'  Not  once  more,  my  Eugene,  for  thou  hast  never  lost  me. 
I  have  kept  unstained  the  faith  I  pledged,  and  never  have  I  be- 
longed to  any  man  but  thee  !  " 

"  But  alas,  my  treasure,  I  may  not  possess  thee  !  Let  me  at 
least  drink  my  fill  of  thy  beauty,  my  Laura  !  " 

She  drew  him  gently  to  her  divan,  and  there,  just  as  he 
had  done  in  the  pavilion,  he  knelt  at  her  feet,  and  ga^ed,  en- 
raptured, in  her  face.  "With  her  little  white  hands  she  stroked 
his  black  locks,  and  lifted  them  from  his  pale,  high  brow. 

"  My  hero,"  murmured  she,  tenderly.  "  Thou  hast  decked 
that  brow  with  laurels  since  I  loved  thee,  Eugene  ;  and  the 
world  has  heard  of  thee  and  of  thy  deeds  of  valor.  I  knew  it 
would  be  so  ;  I  knew  that  the  God  of  the  brave  would  shield 
thy  dear  head  in  the  day  of  battle,  and  lift  thee  to  mountain- 
heights  of  glory  and  renown." 


THE  LOVERS  REUNITED.  317 

"And  yet  I  would  so  gladly  have  yielded  up  my  life> 
Laura  !  What  was  liie  without  thee  ?  One  long  night  of 
anguish,  to  which  death  would  have  been  glorious  day  I  Oh, 
Ijaura  !  that  day — that  fearful  day— on  which  I  was  bereft  of 
thee ! " 

She  laid  her  hand  upon  his  lips.  "  Do  not  think  of  it,  be- 
loved, or  thou  wilt  mar  the  ecstasy  of  the  present.  I,  too,  have 
suffered — more,  it  must  have  been  more,  than  thou  !  And  yet 
in  all  my  anguish  I  was  happy  ;  for  I  was  faithful,  though 
sorely  tried,  and  never,  never  despaired  of  thy  coming." 

"And  yet  thou  art  the  wife  of  another." 

"  Say  not  so.  When  the  priest  laid  my  hand  in  his,  I  laid 
it  in  thine.  To  thee  were  my  promises  of  fidelity,  to  thee  I 
plighted  my  troth.  That  another — a  liar  and  deceiver,  should 
have  inserted  his  odious  name  for  thine,  laid  his  dishonored 
hand  in  mine,  has  never  bound  me  I  I  was,  I  am,  I  will  ever 
be  thine,  so  help  me,  God  !  who  heard  the  oath  I  swore,  and 
knew  that,  swearing,  I  believed  thee  there  !  " 

"  And  I  could  doubt  her,  my  love,  my  wife  I  Forgive  me, 
Laura,  that  in  my  madness  I  should  have  accused  thee." 

"  All  is  forgotten,  for  I  have  thee  here  I  " 

It  was  well  for  these  impassioned  lovers  that  a  friend 
watched  for  them  without.  Lucretia  had  mounted  guard  for 
half  an  hour,  when  Victorine  returned  to  say  that  the  marquis 
would  be  glad  to  see  his  sister ;  her  visit  had  lasted  long 
enough. 

"  Take  my  place,  then,  Victorine  ;  bolt  the  door,  and  admit 
nobody." 

"  Oh,  signora,  if  the  marquis  finds  us  out,  he  will  assassi- 
nate me  1 "  said  Victorine,  trembling. 

"  He  will  not  find  us  out ;  and  you  can  very  well  endure 
some  little  uneasiness,  when  for  a  few  nervous  twitches  you 
are  to  receive  two  thousand  seqmns.  Think  that,  by  to-night, 
you  will  be  on  your  way  to  Paris." 

"Would  to  God  I  were  there,  away  from  this  frightful  rob- 
bers*  nest  I " 

Lucretia  laughed.  "  You  flatter  the  city  of  Venice.  But  I 
am  not  surprised  that  you  are  not  in  love  with  the  Palazzo 
Strozzi,  for  when  its  master  is  contradicted,  he  is  a  rag' 


318  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

ing  tiger,  whose  thirst  nothing  save  human  hlood  will 
quench." 

"  O  God  1  O  Lord  !  I  am  almost  dead  with  fright  I " 

"  Have  patience,  mademoiselle.  Look  at  yonder  clock  on 
the  mantel.  Precisely  at  the  expiration  of  one  hour,  come 
with  your  message  to  my  brother's  cabinet.  That  will  be  the 
signal  for  your  release.     Are  your  effects  out  of  the  palace  ? " 

"  Yes,  signora  ;  they  are  all  at  the  hotel  of  the  Marquis  de 
Villars." 

"  And  the  gondola  of  the  elector  will  be  here  to  speak  the 
prince's  adieux.  Now  remain  just  where  you  are  ;  and,  instead 
of  opening  your  ears  to  what  is  passing  in  yonder  boudoir, 
make  use  of  your  leisure  to  say  your  prayers,  which  you  may 
possibly  have  forgotten  this  morning." 

The  countess  lifted  up  her  long  train,  and,  passing  it  over 
her  arm,  went  on  her  way  to  meet  the  amiable  Strozzi. 

"Eeally,  Ottario,"  said  she,  entering  the  cabinet,  "your 
palace  is  singularly  like  a  prison.  As  I  came  through  the 
corridor,  I  felt  as  if  I  were  passing  over  the  Ponte  de'  Sospiri. 
The  atmosphere  of  the  place  is  heavy  with  your  jealous  sighs." 

"  True  ;  there  is  little  happiness  under  the  marble  dome  of 
my  palace.  But  let  us  speak  of  other  things.  What  can  I  do 
to  serve  you  ? " 

"  You  seem  to  intimate  that  I  can  never  desire  to  speak  with 
you,  except  to  ask  a  favor." 

"  I  find  that,  generally  speaking,  the  case." 

"  For  once  you  are  mistaken.  I  want  nothing  from  you 
whatever." 

"  You  seem  to  have  grown  rich  by  some  legerdemain  or 
other,  Lucretia.  I  hear  that  you  have  refitted  your  palace 
with  great  magnificence.  Has  Canossa  come  into  a  fortune  ? 
or  has  he  been  winning  at  the  card-table  ? " 

"  Neither  ;  but  it  was  precisely  of  my  newly  acquired  wealth 
that  I  came  to  speak  with  you.  I  am  about  to  quit  Venice, 
perhaps  forever  ;  and  before  leaving  I  wished  to  have  an  ex- 
planation with  you." 

"  Gracious  Heaven  !  who  will  take  your  place  by  Laura  ? " 

"  Very  flattering  that  my  departure  occasions  no  emotion 
in  my  brother's  fond  heart,  save  regret  for  the  loss  of  his  spy  I 


THE  LOVERS  REUNITED.  319 

But  never  mind,  I  overlook  the  slight,  and  proceed  with  my 
confession." 

So  Lucretia  went  over  all  the  humiliations  and  hardships 
she  had  undergone  within  the  past  six  months ;  and,  after 
dwelling  pathetically  upon  her  own  sufferings,  she  related  the 
manner  of  her  meeting  with  the  Elector  of  Bavaria,  and  its 
<X)nsequences.  They  loved  each  other  to  adoration  ;  he  lav- 
ished every  gift  upon  her  that  his  wealth  could  purchase,  and 
now  she  was  about  to  give  him  substantial  proof  of  her  at- 
tachment, by  going  off  with  him  to  Munich.  No  mention 
was  made,  in  the  recital,  of  her  episode  with  the  French  min- 
ister. 

The  countess  had  barely  arrived  at  the  end  of  her  confi- 
dences, when  a  knock  was  heard,  and  Mademoiselle  Victorine 
walked  in  with  a  message  from  the  marchioness. 

"  What  message  ? "  cried  Strozzi,  rising  at  once  to  receive  it. 

"  Pardon  me,  excellenza,  it  is  only  a  message  for  the  sig- 
nora,"  said  Victorine,  courtesying.  "  My  lady  wishes  to  know 
if  the  countess  has  the  French  book  that  she  promised  to  bring 
to-day  ? " 

''  Dear  me  I  I  had  forgotten  it,"  cried  the  countess.  "  But 
«tay,  Victorine,  it  is  in  the  gondola  below.  Let  little  Filippo 
go  after  it." 

"  Who  is  Filippo  ? "  asked  the  marquis,  frowning. 

"My  page,  to  be  sure.  Have  you  never  seen  him?  Of 
course  I  could  not  carry  Mary  Stuart^s  long  train  up  the  stair- 
case without  a  page  to  help  me." 

*'  And  he  is  here,  in  the  palace  ? " 

"  Of  course  he  is  :  where  else  should  the  child  6e  but  hero 
with  me  ?  And,  as  I  was  not  anxious  to  have  him  eavesdrop- 
ping about  your  cabinet  while  we  were  conversing,  I  gave  him 
in  charge  to  Victorine." 

"  I  shall  discharge  Beppo,"  growled  the  marquis.  "  How 
dared  he — " 

"Let  me  intercede  for  poor  Beppo,"  laughed  Lucretia. 
**  He  would  have  kept  out  Filippo,  but  I  insisted  that  your  pro- 
hibition could  not  extend  to  boys,  and  I  insisted  upon  having 
liim  to  carry  my  train.  Since  his  presence  here  annoys  you, 
lie  shall  be  made  to  leave,  and  await  me  in  my  gondola." 


PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

"But  the  book,  signora,"  said  Victorine,  with  quiveis 
inglip. 

"  True — the  book  for  Laura.  Will  you  permit  Victorine  to 
go  with  Filippo,  and  get  it  ?  But  bless  me  I  Without  her  pre  - 
tection,  Beppo  would  not  allow  him  to  pass.  You  consent  for 
her  to  accompany  him  ? " 

"  Yes,"  said  Strozzi,  roughly.  "  But  if  ever  you  come  again, 
leave  your  page  at  home." 

"  The  watchword,  signor  ? "  asked  Victorine. 

"  Venetia,"  returned  Strozzi. 

"  What !  "  exclaimed  Lucretia,  "  does  Victorine,  too,  need  a 
password  to  leave  the  palace  ?  My  dear  brother,  I  admire  your 
genius  !    You  are  qualified  to  make  a  first-rate  jailer." 

Mademoiselle  Victorine  had  not  tarried  to  hear  the  ironical 
compliment  of  the  countess.  She  flew  along  the  corridor  to 
the  apartments  of  the  marchioness,  and,  first  knocking  at  the 
door,  she  drew  back  the  portiere. 

"  Your  highness,"  said  she,  "  the  hour  has  expired."  Then 
dropping  the  portiere,  that  the  lovers  might  part  without  wit- 
nesses, she  waited  without. 

Laura's  arms  were  around  his  neck.  Eugene  drew  her 
passionately  to  his  heart.  "  Must  I  then  go  without  thee  ?  '* 
murmured  he. 

"  Yes,  my  Eugene  ;  this  time  thou  goest  alone.  But  be 
patient  and  hopeful,  and  thy  spouse  will  find  means  to  escape 
from  her  jailer." 

"  I  cannot  go,"  cried  Eugene,  despairingly.  "  Nor  can  I 
leave  my  enemy's  house  like  a  frightened  cur,  while  the  woman 
I  love  remains  to  bear  his  anger.  He  must — he  shall  renounce 
my  wife  ! " 

"  That  is,  you  would  see  me  murdered  before  your  eyes  !  " 
exclaimed  Laura,  well  knowing  what  argument  would  move 
him  most  to  discretion.  ''  Eugene,  he  has  sworn  to  assassinate 
me,  if  I  ever  speak  to  you — and,  believe  me,  he  will  keep  his 
oath." 

"  And  I  must  leave  my  treasure  in  his  bloodthirsty  hands  ?  '^ 
cried  the  prince,  pressing  her  still  more  closely  in  his  arms. 

"  The  tiger  will  do  me  no  harm,  Eugene,  if  thou  wilt  go 
before  he  sees  thee." 


THE  LOVERS  REUNITED.  321 

**  Your  highness,"  said  Victorine,  imploringly  through  the 
portiere,  "  for  God's  sake,  tarry  no  longer  !  " 

Laura,  freeing  herself  from  his  embrace,  led  him  to  the 
door.  "  Farewell,  my  beloved,"  said  she.  "  Grod  is  merciful, 
and  will  reunite  us." 

"  One  more  look  into  those  dear  eyes,  one  more  kiss  from 
those  sweet  lips." 

''  Oh,  your  highness  !  "  whispered  Victorine,  a  second  time. 

Laura  raised  the  portiere,  and  led  him  forward.  She  saw 
Victorine  reach  him  his  mask,  and  then,  darting  back  into  her 
boudoir,  she  fell  upon  her  knees,  and  prayed  for  an  hour. 

Meanwhile  the  Countess  Lucretia  was  still  discussing  her 
affairs  ;  but  she  seemed  to  have  become  absent-minded,  some- 
times stopping  suddenly  in  her  speech  to  listen,  occasionally- 
directing  anxious  glances  toward  the  windows. 

The  marquis  was  too  keen  for  these  symptoms  to  escape  his 
penetration. 

"  Are  you  watching  or  waiting  for  any  thing  ? "  asked  he. 

'*  Yes,"  replied  she,  "  I  await  something,  and— oh  !  there  it 
is!" 

As  she  spoke  these  last  words,  a  voice  from  the  water  called 
out  three  times  :  *'  Addio  I  addio  !  addio  I  " 

"Do  you  know  what  that  'addio'  signifies?"  asked  Lu- 
cretia. 

"  How  can  I  understand  the  signals  that  pass  between  you 
and  your  loves  ? " 

"  I  will  tell  you  what  it  means,"  said  she,  looking  full  into- 
her  brother's  face.  "  I— but  no  I  your  eyes  glai*e  too  fiercely 
just  now  ;  you  are  ready  for  a  spring,  and  I  dare  not  wait  to- 
be  devoured.  Addio,  Ottario,  addio.  Take  this  note,  and 
swear  that  you  will  not  open  it  before  ten  minutes.'* 

"  What  childishness  I  "  exclaimed  Strozzi,  rudely. 

"  You  will  not  ?  '•Then  you  shall  not  see  its  contents,  which, 
nevertheless,  concern  your  Laura." 

"  Laura  1— Then  I  swear  that  I  will  not  open  it  before  ten 
minutes." 

'*  It  is  on  the  table.  Be  careful  how  you  break  your  oath. 
You  would  not  be  safe  were  you  to  unfold  that  paper  before 
ten  minutes." 


322  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

So  saying,  she  kissed  her  hand,  and  tripped  merrily  away 
to  her  gondola. 

At  the  expiration  of  the  time  required,  Strozzi  took  up  the 
paper,  and  broke  its  seal.     It  contained  the  following  : 

"  My  Dear  Brother  :  You  sold  me  to  Count  Canossa,  and 
you  have  degraded  me  to  the  trade  of  a  spy.  You  have  forced 
me,  more  than  once,  to  play  the  dragon  by  your  poor,  unhappy 
wife ;  but  I  have  repaid  her  for  my  unkindness,  and  have 
avenged  myself  also.  My  little  Filippo  is  Prince  Eugene,  and 
he  is  to  remain  alone  with  your  wife,  exactly  as  long  as  I  con- 
verse with  you  in  your  cabinet.  The  three  'addios'  which 
you  will  have  heard  ere  this  from  the  Canale,  signify  that  the 
prince  has  reached  his  gondola,  and  is  safe.  Also  that  Made- 
moiselle Victortne,  my  accomplice,  has  fled.  You  gave  her 
ten  ducats  for  each  betrayal  of  her  mistress  ;  we  ofl'ered  two 
thousand  sequins,  and  of  course  she  betrayed  you.     Addio  !  *' 

To  describe  the  fury  of  the  marquis  would  be  impossible. 
But  his  paroxysm  of  rage  over,  he  at  once  began  to  revolve  in 
his  mind  the  means  of  revenge. 

"  There  must  be  an  end  to  this  martyrdom,"  said  he.  "  It 
must  end  ! "  He  looked  at  the  clock.  "  'Tis  time  Antonio 
were  here,  and  he  shall  do  it." 

He  struck  three  times  on  his  little  bell,  and  the  door  in  the 
wall  glided  back,  giving  entrance  to  Antonio. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

ANTONIO'S  EXPIATION. 

The  next  morning  Antonio  asked  admittance  to  the  cabinet 
of  his  new  employer. 

"Your  highness,"  said  he,  "  I  have  seen  the  marchioness." 
"  What  greeting  does  she  send,  good  Antonio  ? " 
"My  lord,  she  awaits  Filippo  at  eight  o'clock  this  even- 
ing." 


ANTONIO'S  EXPIATION.  323 

"  She  awaits  me  !  "  echoed  Eugene.  "  And  you  are  to  con- 
duct me  to  her  ?  " 

"  Yes,  my  lord.  I  am  acquainted  with  the  secret  passages 
of  the  palace.  I  will  show  you  the  way,  and,  as  God  in  heaven 
hears  me,  I  will  bring  you  safely  back.'' 

"  How  solemnly  you  speak,  Antonio  !  " 

"  Ah,  excellenza,  it  is  easier  to  enter  that  palace  than  to 
leave  it !  But  you  shall  leave  it  in  safety,  as  I  hope  to  be  saved 
from  perdition  I " 

"  At  what  hour  did  you  say  ?  " 

"  At  eight  this  evening.  And  now,  my  lord,  allow  me  to 
leave  you  for  a  time.  The  marquis  requires  me  to  remain  at 
the  palace,  and  I  must  be  punctual,  or  he  will  suspect  me. 
You  will  be  obliged  to  engage  another  commissionnaire  ;  but, 
believe  me,  I  shall  better  serve  you  in  the  palace  than 
here." 

Antonio  was  allowed  to  depart ;  but  instead  of  going  toward 
the  Strozzi  palace,  he  betook  himself  to  that  of  the  Elector  of 
Bavaria,  where  the  household  were  in  that  state  of  confusion 
which  precedes  a  departure.  The  elector  had  chosen  to  leave 
Venice  by  night. 

''  I  have  an  important  message  from  my  lord,  Prince  Eu- 
gene of  Savoy  to  his  highness  of  Bavaria,"  said  Antonio,  mak- 
ing his  way  through  the  busy  throng  of  servants.  "  Is  he  in 
his  cabinet  ? " 

"  Yes.  The  chamberlain  is  in  the  anteroom.  He  will  an- 
notince  you." 

"His  highness  will  receive  the  messenger  of  Prince  Eu- 
gene," was  the  reply  ;  and  Antonio,  having  been  admitted,  had 
a  conversation  of  some  length  with  the  elector,  which  left  the 
latter  in  a  state  of  great  agitation. 

"  I  wish  it  were  in  my  power  to  render  assistance ;  but  I 
dare  not.  He  made  me  promise  that  I  would  not  interfere  in 
any  way  ;  and  I  must  keep  my  word.  I  would  but  act  in  the 
dark,  and  might  ruin  him. — And  now  to  Lucretia,  to  devise 
other  means  of  rescue,  if  these  should  fail — " 

After  leaving  the  elector,  Antonio  directed  his  steps  toward 
the  prison  near  the  palace  of  the  doge.  The  porter  that  stood 
the  grated  door  looked  searchingly  at  the  mask  that  pre- 


324  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

sumed  to  tarry  before  those  dismal  gates  whereof  he  was  the 
guardian. 

"  Would  you  earn  a  thousand  sequins  ? "  said  Antonio,  in  a 
whisper. 

"  How  ? "  asked  the  porter,  opening  his  eyes  like  two  full 
moons. 

''  Do  you  know  in  which  cell  Catherina  Giamberta  is  con- 
fined?" 

"Yes,  I  know." 

"  Take  this  flower  to  her.  It  is  her  birthday,  and  she  loves 
flowers.  Tell  her  it  comes  from  Antonio,  and  ask  her  to  send 
him  the  ribbon  she  wears  around  her  neck.  If  you  return 
with  it,  I  will  give  you  one  thousand  sequins." 

He  handed  the  porter  a  large  rose,  whose  stem  was  carefully 
wrapped  in  paper.  Christian©  scarcely  saw  what  it  was,  so 
dazzled  were  his  eyes  by  the  approaching  glitter  of  a  thousand 
sequins.  But  he  thrust  it  in  his  bosom,  drew  the  bolts  of  his 
prison,  and  disappeared  within  its  gloomy  depths. 

Antonio  leaned  his  head  against  the  clammy  prison-wall 
and  waited.     In  half  an  hour  the  turnkey  returned. 

"  Have  you  your  thousand  sequins  with  you  ? "  asked  he. 

"  Here  they  are,"  said  Antonio,  drawing  from  his  cloak  a 
purse,  through  whose  dingy  silk  meshes  the  gold  was  visi- 
ble. 

The  turnkey  put  his  hand  through  the  grate,  and  Antonio 
saw  a  faded,  yellow  paper,  tied  with  a  silken  cord.  He  took 
the  packet,  and  in  return  gave  Christiano  the  purse.  As  he 
did  so,  he  said  ;  "  Make  good  use  of  it ;  I  have  passed  through 
five  years  of  misery  to  earn  it.  Make  good  use  of  it,  and  if 
you  will  have  a  mass  said  for  the  repose  of  my  soul,  'tis  all  I 
ask  in  addition  to  the  service  you  have  just  rendered  me." 

He  turned  away,  and,  hurriedly  taking  the  direction  of  St. 
Mark's,  entered  a  side-door,  and  stood  within  its  sacred  walls. 
The  church  was  empty  and  dimly  lighted.  Antonio  knelt 
down  behind  one  of  the  pillars,  and  opened  the  paper. 

It  contained  a  lock  of  golden  hair — the  hair  of  a  child. 
The  bravo  pressed  it  to  his  lips,  and,  murmuring  a  few  fond 
words,  laid  it  lovingly  upon  his  heart,  and  began  to  pray^ 
When  his  prayer  was  ended,  he  approached  a  confessional 


THE  DUNGEON.  325 

wherein  sat  an  old  Benedictine  monk,  and,  kneeling  down,  be- 
gan his  confession. 

The  recital  was  a  long,  and  apparently  a  terrible  one ; 
for  more  than  once  the  monk  shuddered,  and  his  vener- 
able face  was  mournfully  upraised  as  if  in  prayer  for  the 
penitent.  When  Antonio  ceased,  he  remained  silent,  still 
praying. 

''  Reverend  father,"  murmured  the  bravo,  "  may  I  not  re- 
ceive absolution  for  my  sins  I " 

"  Yes,  my  son,  you  shall  receive  such  absolution  as  it  rests 
with  me  to  give.  If ,  as  I  hope,  you  are  truly  repentant,  God 
will  do  the  rest.  You  have  sinned  grievously,  but  you  are 
ready  to  expiate."  And  the  priest  performed  the  ceremony  of 
absolution. 

"  Reverend  father,  give  me  your  blessing— your  blessing  in 
articulo  mortis,''^ 

*'  Come  hither  and  receive  it." 

Antonio  emerged  from  the  confessional,  and  knelt  on  the 
marble  pavement,  while  the  rays  from  a  stained  window  above 
fell  upon  his  head  like  a  soft,  golden  halo.  The  priest,  too, 
stepped  out,  and,  laying  his  hand  upon  that  bowed  head,  made 
the  sign  of  the  cross,  and  blessed  him  in  articulo  mortis. 
Then  going  slowly  up  the  aisle,  and  kneeling  within  the 
sanctuary,  he  passed  the  night  in  praying  for  a  soul  that  was 
about  to  depart  this  world. 


CHAPTER  rX. 

THE  DUNGEON. 

The  clock  on  the  Campanillo  of  St.  Mark's  struck  eight 
The  day  of  long^g  expectation  had  at  last  worn  away,  and 
Eugene  was  once  more  to  be  admitted  to  the  presence  of  his 
beloved. 

Before  leaving  his  cabinet  he  had  sent  for  Antonio,  and, 
reaching  him  a  purse  of  gold,  had  said :  "  Here,  my  brave- 
here  are  two  hundred  ducats.    Take  this  purse,  and,  when  you 


326  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

make  use  of  its  contents,  remember  that  I  gave  it  as  a  token  of 
my  gratitude  for  your  fidelity  and  friendship." 

"  No,  your  highness,"  replied  Antonio,  in  a  tearful  voice — . 
"  no,  your  highness,  I  need  no  gold.  If  you  would  give  me  a 
souvenir,  let  me  have  the  glove  that  has  covered  the  right  hand 
of  a  hero  whose  sword  has  never  been  unsheathed  save  in  the 
cause  of  right." 

"Singular  man,"  exclaimed  Eugene,  "  take  them  both,  and 
believe  that  I  thank  you  for  your  attachment.  And  now,  let 
us  away  ! " 

"Yes,  my  lord  ;  but  I  implore  you,  not  this  rich  cloak  of 
velvet.  Take  this  black  wrapping  of  cloth  ;  it  is  more  appro- 
priate for  an  adventure  such  as  ours." 

The  little  gondola  lay  moored  at  the  stairs,  without  gondo- 
lier or  light.  Nobody  was  there  except  Eugene  and  Antonio, 
who  rowed  without  help.  They  made  for  a  channel  leading 
to  a  wing  of  the  Palace  Strozzi,  whose  dark,  frowning  walls, 
unrelieved  by  one  single  opening,  were  laved  by  the  foul  and 
turbid  waters  of  the  narrow  estuary.  Antonio's  practised  eye 
discovered  the  low  opening  that  gave  access  to  the  palace  { 
and,  after  fastening  his  gondola  to  a  ring  in  the  wall,  he 
knocked  three  times  at  the  door.  It  was  opened,  and  they  en- 
tered a  small  vestibule,  dimly  lighted,  where  they  were  con- 
fronted by  a  man  who  asked  for  the  password. 

Antonio  whispered  something  in  his  ear,  and  they  were 
permitted  to  ascend  a  steep,  narrow  staircase  leading  to  a  pas- 
sage so  contracted  that  Eugene's  shoulders  touched  on  either 
side,  as  he  struggled  along  toward  a  second  staircase.  When 
they  had  reached  the  last  step,  Antonio  said  :  "  We  have  no 
farther  to  go.  Pass  in,  signor,  and,  whatever  ensues,  remem- 
ber that  you  must  patiently  await  my  return." 

A  door  opened,  Eugene  passed  through,  and  it  closed  be- 
hind him.  He  was  in  a  room  of  singular  shape  and  construc- 
tion. It  was  a  rotunda,  whose  blank  walls  were  without  open- 
ing whatsoever  ;  neither  door  nor  window  was  to  be  seen 
therein.  Suspended  from  the  lofty  ceiling  was  an  iron  chain, 
to  which  was  attached  a  small  lamp,  whose  light  fell  directly 
over  a  table  that  stood  in  the  centre  of  the  room.  On  the  table 
lay  a  piece  of  bread  and  a  glass  of  water  ;  near  it  was  placed  a 


THE  DUNGEON.  82? 

wooden  chair,  and  this  was  all  the  furniture  contained  within 
the  dismal  apartment. 

"  A  dungeon,"  said  Eugene  to  himself.  "  One  of  those 
dungeons  of  which  I  have  heard,  but  in  whose  existence  I 
never  believed  until  now." 

He  was  perfectly  collected  ;  but  he  comprehended  his  posi- 
tion, and  knew  that  he  had  been  beti^ayed.  He  had  been  lured 
into  this  secret  prison,  there  to  die  without  a  sign  I  But  he 
must  make  one  desperate  effort  to  escape.  Death  he  could 
confront — even  the  death  that  stared  him  in  the  face  ;  but  to 
know  that  Laura  would  be  doomed  to  a  life  of  utter  wretched- 
ness, was  a  thought  that  almost  unsettled  his  reason. 

He  surveyed  the  place,  and  then  felt  every  stone,  every 
crevice,  that  came  within  his  reach.  As  he  raised  his  mourn- 
ful eyes  to  look  above  him,  the  wall  just  below  the  ceiling  be- 
gan to  move,  a  small  window  was  opened,  and  within  its  iron 
frame  appeared  a  pale,  sinister  face — the  face  of  the  Marquis 
de  Strozzi. 

Eugene  tore  the  mask  from  his  face,  and  his  large  eyes 
flashed  with  scorn. 

"  Assassin  !  "  cried  he,  "  cowardly  assassin  ! " 

The  marquis  laughed  ;  he  could  afford  to  laugh.  "  Yes,'^ 
said  he,  "  I  am  any  thing  you  may  please  to  term  me  ;  but  yoUy 
Prince  of  Savoy,  are  no  longer  among  the  living.  Your  days 
are  numbered  :  farewell  1 " 

The  window  closed,  and  the  wall  moved  slowly  back  until 
no  trace  of  the  opening  was  to  be  seen.  A  dungeon  !  A 
grave  1  Eugene  of  Savoy  would  die  of  hunger  I  no  human 
ear  would  hear  his  dying  plaint ;  within  a  few  steps  of  on© 
that  loved  him  he  would  disappear  from  earth  ;  and,  until  the 
great  day  whereon  hell  would  yield  up  its  secrets  of  horror  to 
the  Eternal  Judge,  his  fate  would  remain  a  mystery  I  Alas  t 
alas !  And  was  this  to  be  the  end  of  his  aspirations  for 
glory? 

But  hark  1  What  sound  is  that  ?  The  invisible  door,  for 
which  he  had  been  groping  in  vain,  was  once  more  opened, 
and  Antonio  glided  noiselessly  into  the  room. 

He  raised  his  hand  in  token  of  warning.  '*  Not  a  word,  my 
lord,"  whispered  he.    "  I  come  to  save  you." 


^28  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

"  To  save  me,  traitor !  You,  the  despicable  tool  of 
Strozzi  ? " 

"  Oh,  my  lord  !  Have  mercy,  have  mercy  !  Every  mo- 
Tuent  is  precious  :  listen  to  me,  listen  to  me  !  " 

Antonio  sank  on  his  knees,  the  mask  dropped  from  his  face, 
and  his  pale,  suffering  countenance  wore  any  aspect  but  that 
of  treachery. 

"In  the  name  of  the  Marchioness  Laura  Bonaletta,  hear 
jne,"  said  he,  imploringly. 

"  Laura  Bonaletta  ! "  echoed  Eugene,  in  a  voice  of  pierc- 
ing anguish.  "  What  can  such  as  you  know  of  Laura  Bona- 
letta ? " 

j^ntonio  gave  him  a  folded  paper  containing  these  few 
lines  :  "  If  thou  lovest  me,  do  as  Antonio  bids  thee.  If  thou 
wouldst  not  have  me  die  of  grief,  accept  thy  life  from  An- 
tonio's hands,  and  oh,  love  1  believe  me,  we  shall  meet  again. 
Thy  Laura." 

Eugene  pressed  the  paper  to  his  lips,  and  when  he  looked 
^t  Antonio  again,  his  eye  had  lost  its  sternness,  and  about  his 
lips  there  fluttered  a  sad  smile. 

"  What  does  this  mean,  Antonio  ? "  said  he. 

"  Excellenza,  it  means  that  I  was  a  hardened  sinner  until 
you  rescued  my  soul  from  perdition.  Would  that  I  had  time 
to  lay  before  you  the  sins  of  my  whole  life,  that  you  might 
know  from  what  depths  of  crime  you  delivered  me  !  But  time 
is  precious.  I  can  only  say  that  I  am  no  brave  soldier  that 
was  scarred  in  battle.  This  wound  upon  my  face  was  from 
ihe  hand  of  my  father,  and,  for  the  crime  of  his  murder,  my 
-right  hand  was  hewed  by  the  arm  of  the  executioner.  Nay — 
do  not  start,  my  dear,  dear  lord  !  'Tis  you  that  brought  me  to 
-repentance  ;  'tis  you  that  inspired  me  to  seek  reconciliation 
with  Heaven.  I  came  to  you  a  bravo — the  emissary  of  the 
Marquis  Strozzi ;  but  when  you  touched  my  mutilated  arm 
with  your  honored  hand — when  you  trusted  me  because  you 
believed  me  to  be  brave — I  swore  in  my  heart  that  you  at  least 
I  would  not  betray.  'Tis  true,  I  led  you  hither  where  Strozzi 
would  have  left  you  to  die  of  hunger.  Ah,  my  lord  !  you  are 
-not  the  first  that  has  looked  upon  these  cruel  walls.  Giuseppi, 
vthe  gondolier  whom  the  countess  loved — he,  too,  poor  youth, 


THE  DUNGEON.  329 

came  hither — and  six  days  after  I  was  sent  for  his  corpse,  and 
consigned  it  to  the  sullen  waters  of  the  lagoon,  that  covers  the 
secrets  of  Strozzi's  atrocious  murders." 

"  But  why,  then,  did  you  not  warn  me  ?  " 

**  Because  Strozzi  would  have  murdered  me,  and  employed 
another  man  to  betray  you  into  his  hands.  Or,  if  you  had  be- 
lieved me,  you  might  have  remained  in  Venice,  and  you  must 
fly  this  very  night — this  very  hour.  Until  you  are  safe,  Strozzi 
must  believe  that  you  are  his  prisoner." 

•'  Am  I,  then,  forever  doomed  to  turn  my  back  upon  this 
man?" 

**  My  lord,  my  lord,  no  vain  scruples  I  The  Marchioness 
Bonaletta  will  die  if  you  do  not  live  to  rescue  her  from  his 
tyranny." 

Eugene  grasped  his  arm.  "  Ah,  yes,  indeed  I  Then  come, 
Antonio — let  us  fly." 

"  My  dear  lord,  one  man  only  can  leave  this  room.  The 
porter  is  ready  with  his  dagger  if  both  should  attempt  to 
pass." 

"  You  would  remain  here  in  my  place  I  You  would  sacri- 
fice your  life  to  liberate  me,  Antonio  ! " 

"The  parricide  would  fain  be  at  rest,"  replied  Antonio, 
gently.  "  The  sinner  would  gladly  suffer  death,  that,  expiat- 
ing his  crimes,  he  may  hope  to  be  forgiven  by  his  Maker." 

"  Never  will  I  purchase  life  at  such  a  price,"  was  the  reply 
of  the  prince. 

"  My  life  is  accursed,"  said  Antonio ;  "  my  death  will  be 
triumphant.  My  lord,  if  you  knew  how  I  longed  for  death, 
you  would  not  refuse  me  the  blessing  I  covet.  My  Catherina 
ere  this  awaits  me  in  the  other  world  ;  I  long  to  rejoin  her— I 
long  to  obtain  the  pardon  of  my  murdered  father." 

Eugene's  face  was  buried  in  his  hands,  and  he  was  weeping. 
**  I  cannot,  I  cannot,"  gasped  he. 

"  You  would  drive  your  Laura  to  despair,  then  ?  You  would 
go  to  your  grave  without  renown  ? " 

"  No  ;  I  would  live.  Come  :  we  can  overpower  the  porter 
— if  nothing  less  will  save  us,  we  can  kill  him." 

*' Before  he  dies  he  will  call  for  help,  and  help  will  be 
near.    But  one  of  us  can  escape ;  and^  by  my  eternal  salva- 


330  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

tion,  I  swear  that  I  will  not  be  that  one  !  Away  with  you  ! 
Away  !  In  a  moment  it  will  be  too  late  !  Do  you  not  hear 
me  ?  Whether  you  go  or  stay,  I  never  will  leave  this  place 
again  ! " 

Eugene  staggered  against  the  wall,  and  sighed  heavily. 
Antonio  knelt  at  his  feet.  At  last  he  murmured  almost  in- 
audibly,  "  I  will  go." 

Antonio  sprang  from  his  knees,  threw  his  cloak  around  the 
prince,  and,  with  eager,  trembling  hands,  adjusted  his  mask. 

"  Thank  God  !  "  said  he,  "  we  are  of  the  same  size  and  build. 
There  is  not  the  least  danger  of  recognition.  The  porter  will 
suspect  nothing.  The  password  is,  *  One  of  two.''  The  gondola 
is  moored  in  the  place  where  we  left  it,  and  your  friends  are  at 
the  landing,  awaiting  you  now.  The  marchioness  knows  that 
you  are  to  leave  Venice  to-night.  God  in  heaven  bless  you. 
And  now  away  I  " 

"Antonio,"  replied  Eugene,  greatly  affected,  *'with  my 
latest  breath  I  will  bless  and  thank  you." 

Then  folding  the  bravo  in  his  arms,  he  would  have  spoken 
his  thanks  again,  but  Antonio  hurried  him  away,  closed  the 
door,  and  then  fell  upon  his  knees  to  pray. 

The  password  was  spoken,  the  door  was  opened,  and  Eugene 
was  saved  I  He  sprang  into  the  gondola,  and  it  flew  across 
those  sullen  waters  like  an  arrow.  As  he  reached  the  landing, 
a  well-known  voice  called  out,  "  Eugene  !  " 

"  Max  Emmanuel,  I  am  here  ! "  was  the  reply,  and  the 
friends  were  locked  in  each  other's  arms. 

At  length  the  elector  spoke  : — "  I  have  confronted  death," 
said  he,  "  but  never  in  my  life  have  I  passed  an  hour  of  such 
anguish  as  this.  Come,  Eugene,  yonder  lies  the  ship  that  is 
to  bear  us  away  from  this  sin-laden  city.  Step  into  my  gon- 
dola, we  have  not  a  moment  to  lose." 

They  rowed  to  the  ship's  side ;  they  mounted  the  ladder, 
and  before  the  dawn  of  day  Venice  with  her  palaces  and  their 
secret  prisons  had  disappeared,  and  the  friends  were  far  on  their 
way  to  Trieste. 


BOOK  Y. 

CHAPTER  I. 

A  TWOFOLD  VICTORY. 

The  winter  of  1688  had  gone  by  ;  the  snows  were  melting 
from  the  bosom  of  reviving  earth  ;  and  the  trees  that  bordered 
the  avenues  of  the  Prater  were  bursting  into  life.  At  the 
court  of  Austria  nobody  welcomed  spring ;  for  its  approach 
betokened  the  cessation  of  gayety,  and  the  resumption  of 
hostDities.  The  year  1687  had  been  rendered  illustrious  in 
the  annals  of  Austrian  history,  by  Charles  of  Lorraine,  who, 
on  the  12th  of  August,  had  gained  a  signal  victory  over  the 
Turks.  The  rebellion  in  Hungary,  if  not  suppressed,  was 
smothered  ;  for  the  weary  and  exhausted  Magyars  had  been 
totally  crushed  by  the  iron  heel  of  General  Caraffa,  and  they 
had  submitted  to  Austria.  The  conditions  of  the  surrender 
were  hard  :  they  demanded  the  relinquishment  of  some  of  the 
dearest  rights  of  the  liberty-loving  Hungarians.  First,  they 
were  to  renounce  all  right  of  resistance  against  the  King  of 
Hungary  ;  second,  they  were  no  longer  to  elect  their  own  sov- 
ereigns ;  the  crown  of  Hungary  was  made  hereditary  in  the 
house  of  the  Emperors  of  Austria.  The  Archduke  Joseph, 
then  ten  years  of  age,  was  crowned  king  ;  and  the  Hungarians 
were  compelle<l  to  take  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  this  irresjwn- 
sible  sovereign. 

This  being  a  decisive  victory,  the  campaign  ended  early» 
and  the  season  of  festivity  had  therefore  been  a  prolonged  one. 
Not  only  the  aristocracy  of  Vienna  had  celebrated  the  heroism 
of  the  victors  by  balls,  concerts,  and  assemblies,  but  the  em- 
peror himself  sometimes  prevailed  upon  his  retiring  and  de- 
vout empress  to  participate  in  the  national  gayety,  by  giving 
entertainments  to  her  subiects  at  the  imperial  palace. 

(881) 


332  PKINCE    EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

It  was  tlie  festival  of  the  Empress  Eleanora,  and  the  day 
was  to  be  celebrated  by  the  production  of  a  new  opera,  entitled 
"II  Porno  d'Oro,"  The  rehearsals  had  been  superintended  by 
the  emperor  in  person  ;  he  had  suggested  and  directed  the 
scenery  and  decorations,  and,  to  the  great  scandal  of  his  con- 
fessor, Father  Bischof,  Leopold  had  more  than  once  curtailed 
his  devotions,  to  attend  these  rehearsals. 

On  the  day  of  the  performance  the  emperor  retired  early  to 
his  dressing-room,  and,  to  honor  the  festival  of  his  consort, 
arrayed  himself  with  imperial  magnificence.  His  doublet  was 
of  cloth  of  gold,  edged  with  fringe  of  the  same  ;  his  cloak  of 
purple  velvet,  richly  embroidered,  was  fastened  on  the  shoul- 
der by  an  agraffe  of  superb  diamonds.  The  breeches,  reaching 
to  the  knee,  were  of  velvet,  like  the  cloak  ;  and  the  hose,  like 
the  doublet,  were  of  cloth  of  gold.  The  shoes  of  purple  velvet 
were  fastened  with  buckles  of  diamonds  to  correspond  with 
the  agraffe  of  the  cloak.  His  ruff  was  of  gold  lace,  his  hat  was 
decorated  with  a  long  white  plume,  and  on  his  breast  he  wore 
the  splendid  order  of  the  Golden  Fleece. 

When  Leopold  entered  his  music-room,  Kircherus,  who 
was  there,  awaiting  him,  could  not  repress  an  exclamation  of 
wonder  at  the  dazzling  apparition. 

"  You  are  amazed  at  my  magnificence,"  said  the  emperor, 
laughing. 

"  Your  majesty,  say  rather  that  I  am  struck  with  admira- 
tion than  with  amazement.  You  are  as  glorious  as  the  god  of 
day  ;  and  if  the  Muses  were  to  trip  by,  they  would  surely  mis- 
take you  for  their  Phoebus,  and,  quitting  Parnassus,  make 
themselves  at  home  in  Vienna." 

'*  And  be  driven  away  with  contumely  ;  for,  being  heathen 
maidens,  Father  Bischof  would  speedily  exorcise  and  exile 
them  back  to  Greece.  And  now  tell  me  what  you  think  of  the 
new  opera.     Do  you  expect  it  to  be  successful  ? " 

"  Indeed  I  do,  your  majesty.    It  is,  to  my  mind,  heavenly." 

"  And  to  mine  also.  'Tis  the  very  music  with  which  to  lull 
the  dying  soul  to  rest.  I  have  spared  nothing  to  bring  it  out 
handsomely,  and  it  has  certainly  been  a  golden  apple  to  my 
purse,  for  it  has  already  cost  me  thirty  thousand  ducats.  But 
I  tell  you  this  in  confidence,  Kircherus  :  were  my  generals  to 


A  TWOFOLD  VICTORT.  333 

hear  of  it,  they  would  cry  out  that  money  is  to  be  had  for 
every  thing  except  the  army." 

"  I  wish  there  were  no  army  to  swallow  up  your  majesty's 
resoui*ces,  and  that  we  might  be  allowed  to  enjoy  our  music  in 
peace,"  growled  Kircherus. 

"  Hush,  Kircherus  ;  you  are  an  artiste,  and  know  nothing 
of  the  exigencies  of  political  existence.  I  would  I  were  such 
a  heavenly  idiot  as  you ;  but  God  has  decreed  otherwise.  It  is 
my  duty  to  declare  war  or  peace,  as  becomes  the  ruler  of  a 
great  people  ;  and  so  disinclined  am  I  to  strife,  and  so  inclined 
to  x)eacef  ul  arts,  that  I  sometimes  think  I  have  been  purposely 
thwarted  by  Grod,  and  cast  upon  an  epoch  of  perplexity  and 
dissension,  that  my  character  might  be  invigorated  by  its  exi- 
gencies. Even  now  I  go  reluctantly  from  art,  to  hold  a  coun- 
cil of  war.  I  fear  it  is  about  to  be  anything  but  amicable  ;  so, 
do  your  best  to  console  me  on  my  return,  and  see  that  all  goes 
well  as  regards  the  opera." 

The  officers  of  the  war  department  had  been  for  more  than 
half  an  hour  awaiting  the  appearance  of  the  emperor.  One 
only  was  absent,  the  Duke  of  Lorraine,  who  had  excused  him- 
self on  a  plea  of  indisposition. 

"  He  is  craftier  than  I  had  supposed,"  ssiid  the  Margrave  of 
Baden  to  his  nephew.  "  He  avoids  the  unpleasant  responsi- 
bilities of  debate,  and  shields  himself  behind  the  orders  of  the 
emperor." 

"Because  he  awaits  a  reappointment  to  the  chief  com- 
mand," replied  Louis.  "  For  him  is  the  glory  of  our  victories  ; 
for  us  the  danger.  But  I  have  a  missile  to  throw  into  the 
camp  of  the  enemy  ;  it  is  from  Max  Emmanuel,  who  votes 
with  us." 

"  Ah,  indeed  I "  said  the  margrave,  with  a  satisfied  air. 
"  Then  I  think  we  may  hope  to  thwart  this  insolent  pretender, 
who  considers  me  incapable  of  directing  the  war  department 
of  Austria." 

**  He  has  offered  me  a  public  affront,"  returned  Louis,  in- 
dignantly. "I  had  a  right  to  command  the  Slavonian  cav- 
alry ;  and  he  bestowed  it  upon  Dunewald,  who  is  nothing  but 
his  creature.  I  have  therefore  followed  the  example  of  Max 
Emmanuel,  and  shall  resign  my  commission  to-day." 


334  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

"  I  would  give  millions  if,  after  your  defection,  lie  were  de- 
feated by  the  Turks.  But  he  has  the  most  unconscionable 
luck.  And  then,  that  silly  Prince  of  Savoy,  who  blows  such 
blasts  in  his  praise.  Louis,  you  ought  not  to  be  so  intimate 
with  Prince  Eugene — he  is  one  of  our  enemies." 

"  Oh  no,"  replied  Louis,  smiling.  ''  Eugene  is  the  enemy 
of  no  man.  Say  nothing  against  him^  uncle,  if  you  love  me. 
He  is  a  youth  of  noble  spirit,  incapable  of  envy  ;  recognizing 
every  soldier's  merit  except  his  own.  Our  cousin  of  Savoy  is 
■destined  to  become  a  great  man." 

"  He  is  already  a  great  man,"  replied  the  margrave,  with  a 
sneer.  "  Not  twenty-five  years  of  age,  and  a  knight  of  the 
Golden  Fleece — a  protege  of  the  emperor,  the  favorite  of 
Charles  of  Lorraine  ! " 

At  this  moment  the  doors  were  opened,  and  Leopold,  fol- 
lowed by  a  small,  slender  officer,  entered  the  council-chamber. 

"  The  Prince  of  Savoy  ! "  muttered  the  margrave,  impa- 
tiently. 

"  Eugene  ! "  said  Louis  to  himself,  as,  bowing  his  head  with 
the  rest,  he  wondered  what  could  be  the  meaning  of  his  cous- 
in's presence. 

"  My  lords,'*  said  the  emperor,  taking  his  seat,  "  I  have  in- 
vited Prince  Eugene  of  Savoy  to  assist  at  this  council — not 
only  as  a  listener,  but  as  one  of  us  ;  and  I  shall  call  uj)on  him 
to  give  his  opinion  as  such,  upon  the  matters  that  come  under 
discussion  to-day." 

"  Pardon  me,  your  majesty,  if,  as  president  of  this  council, 
I  remind  you  that  the  Prince  of  Savoy  is  too  young  and  inex- 
perienced for  such  a  discussion,  and  that  no  man  in  active 
service,  under  the  rank  of  a  field-marshal,  ever  participates  in 
the  debates  of  the  war  department." 

"  Your  highness  is  quite  right,  and  I  thank  you  for  the  re- 
minder. "We  have  no  desire  to  infringe  the  etiquette  of  the 
council-chamber  ;  and  as  we  have  invited  the  prince  therein, 
we  must  repair  our  oversight  by  qualifying  him  to  sit, — Prince 
of  Savoy,  we  hereby  create  you  field-marshal,  and  trust  that, 
^is  such,  you  may  win  so  many  laurels  that  the  world  will  par- 
don your  youth  in  favor  of  your  genius." 

Eugene  crimsoned  to  his  temples,  and  kissed  the  hand 


A  TWOFOLD  VICTORY.  335 

-wliich  Leopold  extended.  "My  liege,"  said  he,  in  a  voice 
choked  with  emotion,  "  your  majesty  heaps  coals  of  fire  on 
my  head.  May  Grod  give  me  grace  to  earn  these  unparalleled 
honors ! " 

"  You  have  already  earned  them,"  replied  Leopold,  "  and 
Austria  is  proud  to  have  won  such  a  hero  to  her  cause. — And 
-now,  my  lords,  to  business.  President  of  the  council,  what  is 
the  condition  of  our  army  at  present  ? " 

"  Your  majesty,  the  army  is  not,  as  yet,  armed  and  provi- 
sioned ;  but  it  will  be  in  a  condition  to  oppose  the  enemy  as 
soon  as  the  marshes  of  Hungary  are  sufficiently  dry  to  allow 
of  an  advance." 

"  That  means  simply  that  nothing  has  been  done,"  replied 
the  emperor,  in  tones  of  dissatisfaction,  "  and  that  the  winter 
has  been  spent  in  total  inaction.  It  means  also  that  this  year 
.as  well  as  last  our  soldiers  are  to  feel  the  want  of  the  neces- 
saries of  life  ;  and  that  for  lack  of  money,  munition,  and 
stores,  our  most  advantageous  marches  will  have  to  be  relin- 
quished." 

"  I  see  that  the  Duke  of  Lorraine  has  already  accused  and 
calumniated  me,"  said  the  margrave,  sullenly. 

"The  Duke  of  Lorraine  has  at  times  complained  of  the 
want  of  munition,  stores,  and  forage  ;  but  he  neither  calum- 
niates nor  accuses  any  one.  He  has  remarked  that,  instead  of 
being  sustained  by  the  war  department,  he  has  been  hampered 
And  harassed  by  its  opposition  to  his  plans.  Even  his  officers 
liave  manifested  a  spirit  of  such  insubordination,  that  they 
have  seriously  interfered  with  his  successes." 

"  That  means  that  he  has  complained  of  me,"  interposed 
liOuis  of  Baden. 

"  Yes,  margrave,  it  does  ;  and  we  are  both  surprised  that  a 
hero  of  your  recognized  ability  and  renown  should  fail  in  a 
floldier^s  first  duty— obedience  to  orders." 

"Your  majesty,"  exclaimed  Louis,  "I  am  no  subordinate 
officer  to  receive  or  obey  orders  from  another  I  I  am  an  inde- 
pendent prince  of  the  German  empire,  in  every  respect  the 
equal  of  the  Duke  of  Lorraine." 

"  Elxcept  as  an  oflBcer  in  the  Austrian  army,"  replied  Leo* 
pold,  "  in  which  character  the  Duke  of  Lorraine  is  your  chief. 


336  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

You  have  not  sufficiently  considered  this  matter  of  your  rank 
as  an  officer  in  my  service  ;  let  me  hope  that,  for  the  future, 
you  will  acknowledge  and  respect  the  authority  of  your  com- 
mander-in-chief. I  myself  have  found  him  ever  ready  to 
acknowledge  and  respect  mine." 

"  The  will  of  the  emperor,  to  us,  is  law,"  said  the  Margrave 
Herman.  "  But  your  imperial  majesty  has  hitherto  exacted 
of  your  officers  that  they  should  receive  your  mandates 
through  the  medium  of  the  minister  of  war.  The  Duke  of 
Lorraine,  who  claims  such  strict  obedience  from  others,  has 
set  at  defiance  the  mandates  issued  from  this  council-chamber. 
As  president  of  the  same,  I  complain  of  the  insubordination  of 
your  majesty's  commander-in-chief.  He  has  not  carried  out 
the  orders  received  from  the  war  department." 

"  He  would  have  been  more  than  mortal  had  he  done  so  ; 
for  the  war  department  has  required  of  him  feats  that  were 
physically  impossible.  We  can  trace  out  upon  this  green 
cloth  before  me  any  number  of  strategic  movements,  which, 
supposing  the  enemy  to  be  of  one  mind  with  ourselves,  would 
annihilate  him  beyond  a  doubt.  But  as  he  is  apt  to  do  the 
very  reverse  of  what  we  would  prescribe,  the  man  upon  whom 
rests  the  responsibility  of  confronting  him,  must  use  his  rea- 
son, and  modify  orders  according  to  circumstances.  What  is 
to  be,  you  cannot  include  in  your  paper  plans  of  attack  ;  but 
the  Duke  of  Lorraine  has  met  every  emergency  as  it  present- 
ed itself  on  the  field,  and  every  true  Austrian  should  be  his 
friend." 

"Your  majesty,"  cried  the  margrave,  greatly  irritated, 
"  the  president  of  this  council  must  nevertheless  persist  in  his 
conviction  that  the  highest  court  of  military  jurisdiction  is 
here,  and  that  the  commander-in-chief  of  the  army  is  its  sub- 
ordinate." 

"  You  mistake  the  extent  of  its  power,"  replied  the  emper- 
or, with  composure.  "  It  is  merely  expected  of  the  general- 
in-chief  that  he  act  in  concert  with  the  war  department." 

"  Which  the  Duke  of  Lorraine  has  never  done  !  "  cried  the 
margrave,  impetuously. 

"  Perhaps  the  blame  lay  in  the  injudicious  exactions  of  the 
minister  of  war,"  replied  Leopold,  carelessly  ;  "  and  if,  despite 


A  TWOFOLD  VICTORY.  337 

of  all  the  obstacles  that  were  placed  in  his  way,  he  has  sub- 
dued Hungary,  you  have  no  part  in  his  glory,  my  lord  ;  for  iik 
every  case  your  judgment  has  been  contrary  to  his." 

"  It  follows,  then,  that  I  have  not  filled  my  office  to  the  satis- 
faction of  your  majesty,"  said  the  margrave,  choking  with  anger. 

"  I  regret  to  say  that  I  have  less  confidence  in  your  judg- 
ment than  in  your  ability,  my  lord  ;  the  former  is  unhappily 
often  obscured  by  prejudice,"  replied  Leopold,  calmly. 

"  Your  majesty,"  cried  the  margrave,  "  in  this  case  I  shall 
feel  compelled — " 

"  I  do  not  wish  you  to  say  or  do  any  thing  on  compulsion^ 
my  lord  ;  I  prefer  to  assign  you  a  position  in  which  your  tal- 
ents, being  unfettered  by  your  antipathies,  will  shine  with 
undimmed  lustre.  You  have  complained  of  late  that  the 
duties  of  the  war  department  have  become  irksome  to  you  ;  if 
so,  I  can  give  you  an  appointment  less  onerous  to  you,  but 
equally  important  to  the  state.  I  am  just  now  in  need  of  an 
intelligent  representative  before  the  imperial  Diet.  This, 
charge  I  commit  to  you,  premising  that  you  must  start  for 
your  post  immediately,  that  you  may  infuse  some  life  into  the 
stagnant  councils  of  the  ambassadors  of  the  princes  of  Ger- 
many." 

"  Your  majesty  wishes  to  banish  me  from  court  ? "  asked 
the  margrave,  pale  with  anger. 

"  Certainly  not,  your  highness,"  replied  the  emperor,  gen- 
tly. "  I  send  you  on  an  honorable  embassy,  and  one  whereat 
I  need  a  capable  and  fearless  advocate.  The  question  to  be 
decided  before  the  imperial  Diet  is  one  of  life  or  death  to  Aus- 
tria, nay— to  Germany.  France  is  evidently  preparing  for 
war  with  the  German  empire.  Her  fortresses  on  the  eastern 
frontier  are  all  garrisoned  ;  her  troops  are  approaching  ;  and 
under  some  pretext  or  other,  they  will  cross  our  boundary 
lines.  This  being  the  case,  the  princes  of  the  empire  must 
cease  their  everlasting  petty  dissensions,  and  band  themselves 
together  for  the  defence  of  Germany.  Be  it  your  task  to 
strengthen  the  bond  of  unity  between  them,  and  to  convince 
them  that  in  close  alliance  with  Austria  safety  is  to  be  found 
for  all.  I  know  of  no  man  who  can  serve  my  interests  at 
Begensburg  as  well  as  you,  my  lord  ;  while,  happily,  I  cant 


338  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

find  a  substitute  for  your  presidential  chair  at  home,  in  Count 
"von  Starhemberg.  And  now,  farewell ;  and  let  me  hear  from 
you  as  soon  as  possible.'' 

The  emperor  extended  his  hand  to  the  margrave,  who^ 
scarcely  able  to  control  his  dissatisfaction,  barely  raised  it  to 
his  lips,  and  hurried  away. 

"  My  lords,"  said  the  emperor,  "  let  us  proceed  to  business. 
The  spring  is  nigh,  and  a  new  campaign  is  about  to  be  planned. 
Count  von  Starhemberg,  as  president  of  this  assembly,  will  be 
so  good  as  to  impart  his  views." 

Count  von  Starhemberg  bowed  : — "  Your  majesty,  it  ap- 
pears to  me  that  our  policy  is  to  avoid  a  general  engagement. 
The  end  of  this  campaign  is  the  reduction  of  Belgrade,  and 
great  precaution  must  be  used  if  we  are  to  succeed.  I  would 
divide  the  army,  so  as  to  begin  operations  at  three  points  si- 
multaneously, and  weaken  the  enemy,  by  scattering  his  forces. 
By  detaching,  we  can  easily  defeat  them,  and  capture  their 
arsenals.  This  accomplished,  we  proceed  to  Belgrade,  and, 
with  the  conquest  of  this  Turkish  stronghold,  we  end  not  only 
the  campaign,  but  the  war. " 

As  Von  Starhemberg  concluded  this  harangue,  the  emperor 
addressed  himself  to  Prince  Louis  of  Baden. 

"  Your  majesty,"  replied  he,  "  I  have  no  opinion  to  offer, 
for  my  views  coincide  altogether  with  those  of  Count  von  Star- 
hemberg." 

"  And  you,  Count  von  Kinsky  ?  " 

"  Your  majesty,  I  sustain  the  president." 

The  same  replies  were  forthcoming  from  Counts  Liechten- 
tstein  and  Puchta,  and  the  emperor,  having  heard  each  one, 
relapsed  into  silence.  After  a  pause,  he  spoke.  "There 
reigns  a  remarkable  unanimity  of  opinion  here,  among  the 
councils  of  the  war  department,"  said  he,  with  some  emphasis. 
"  Five  membei's  having  but  one  mind  as  to  the  prosecution  of 
the  war  !  Not  one  variation  from  the  plan  of  the  president — 
not  one  suggestion — not  even  from  so  experienced  and  able  a 
general  as  Louis  of  Baden  !  This  is  singular  and  surprising. 
We  have  yet  to  hear  the  youngest  member  of  the  counciL 
Field-Marshal  Prince  of  Savoy,  speak  without  restraint,  and 
fear  not  to  express  your  own  views," 


A  TWOFOLD  VICTORY.  339 

"  Pardon  me,  your  majesty,"  said  Eugene,  blushing,  "  if  I 
venture  to  dissent  from  the  opinions  expressed  by  those  who 
are  my  seniors  in  years,  and  my  superiors  in  experience.  But 
it  is  the  duty  of  a  man,  when  called  upon  to  speak,  to  speak 
honestly  ;  and  I  should  be  untrue  to  my  most  earnest  convic- 
tions, were  I  to  give  in  my  adherence  to  the  plan  proposed." 

Amazement  was  depicted  upon  the  faces  of  the  assembled 
councillors  ;  not  only  amazement,  but  disapprobation  of  Eu- 
gene's boldness.  The  emperor,  however,  looked  kindly  at  the 
prince,  and  bade  him  proceed. 

"  With  your  majesty's  permission,  I  am  of  the  opinion  that 
the  entire  army  be  concentrated  in  an  attack  upon  Belgrade. 
To  divide  our  forces  will  enfeeble  them  doubly  ;  their  numbers 
would  be  inconsiderable,  and  their  command  by  one  chief,  im- 
possible. Division  is  weakness — concentration  is  strength. 
Belgrade  is  our  goal,  and  to  Belgrade  let  us  march  at  once. 
Let  us  possess  the  key  of  Turkey,  and  then  we  can  make  con- 
ditions with  the  Sultan." 

"  I  honor  your  frankness,  prince,"  replied  the  emperor.  "  I 
should  respect  it,  were  my  opinion  on  the  subject  adverse  to 
yours.  But  it  is  not.  My  lords,  I  regret  that  we  are  not  all  of 
one  mind  ;  but  I  must  decide  in  favor  of  the  campaign  as  pro- 
posed by  Field-Marshal  Eugene  of  Savoy.  I  cannot  consent 
to  have  the  army  crippled  by  division  ;  we  must  put  forth  all 
our  strength,  if  we  are  to  lay  siege  to  Belgrade,  and  to  this  one 
end  let  our  warlike  preparations  be  directed." 

"Your  majesty's  will  is  law,"  replied  Count  von  Starhem- 
bepg.  "  It  only  remains  for  you  to  name  the  one  to  whom  the 
chief  command  of  the  Austrian  forces  is  to  be  intrusted." 

"  It  is  to  be  intrusted  to  him  who  has  commanded  it  with 
such  signal  ability — to  the  Duke  of  Lorraine,  my  lord. — And 
now,  gentlemen,"  added  the  emperor,  rising,  "  the  sitting  is 
^nded." 

"  Your  majesty,"  interposed  Louis  of  Baden,  "  I  crave  a  few 
moments  more." 

The  emperor  gave  consent,  and  the  young  prince  came  for- 
ward and  spoke. 

"Youp  majesty,  the  chief  command  of  the  army  being 
^ven  to  the  Duke  of  Lorraine,  it  follows  that  neither  the 


340  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

Elector  of  Bavaria  nor  I  have  any  independent  position  ;  we 
are  to  obey  the  orders  of  the  Duke  of  Lorraine.  This  being 
the  case,  Max  Emmanuel  has  commissioned  me  to  announce 
with  the  utmost  respect  that  it  does  not  become  a  reigning 
prince  to  be  the  instrument  of  any  other  man's  will.  His 
subjects  have  already  complained  of  the  subordinate  rank  of 
their  sovereign,  and  he  cannot  allow  their  sense  of  honor  to  be 
wounded  by  a  renewal  of  such  affront.  He  therefore  tenders 
his  resignation.  He  will  withdraw  the  Bavarian  troops,  and 
take  no  part  in  your  majesty's  projected  campaign  against  the 
Turks. " 

"  We  shall  take  time  to  consider  the  subject,"  replied  Leo- 
pold, in  a  tone  of  unconcern,  "and  will  speak  with  the  elector 
in  person.     Have  you  anything  else  to  say  ? " 

"  Yes,  your  majesty,"  said  Louis.  "  I,  also,  consider  it  be- 
neath my  dignity  to  serve  under  a  foreign  prince,  and  I  owe  it 
to  my  own  self-respect  to  act  with  the  elector,  and  to  tender  my 
resignation." 

The  emperor  looked  searchingly  at  the  troubled  counte- 
nance of  the  margrave,  who  blushed  beneath  his  gaze,  and  cast 
down  his  eyes. 

*'  And  you,  too,  would  abandon  your  colors  ? "  asked  Leo- 
pold. 

The  eyes  of  the  margrave  flashed  fire.  "I  false  to  my 
colors  ! "  exclaimed  he. 

"  You,"  repeated  the  emperor.  "  With  your  rank,  as  Mar- 
grave of  Baden,  I  have  nothing  to  do.  You  are  an  officer  in 
my  army,  and  have  taken  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  me,  as 
your  lord  and  emperor.  I  ask  you  if  you  deem  it  honorable 
to  desert  your  flag  on  the  eve  of  a  campaign  ?  Do  we  not  call 
such  conduct  by  the  name  of  cowardice  ? " 

"  Your  majesty,"  cried  Louis,  vehemently,  "la  — ! " 

"  I  do  not  speak  of  you,"  interrupted  Leopold,  calmly.  "  1 
ask  you,  if,  at  the  moment  of  engaging  the  enemy,  one  of  your 
ablest  officers  were  to  come  to  you  with  the  proposition  you 
have  just  made  to  me,  by  what  word  would  you  chai^acterize 
the  act?" 

"Your  majesty — I— I — "  stammered  the  margrave. 

"  You  cannot  answer,  my  lord,  but  I  will  answer  for  you. 


A  TWOFOLD  VICTORY.  841 

You  would  say  to  such  a  man,  '  He  who  deserts  his  post  in  the 
hour  of  danger  is  a  coward. '  But  you,  Margrave  of  Baden,  are  a 
man  of  honor,  and  therefore  you  will  withhold  your  vaulting 
ambition.  You  will  not  strive  with  the  destiny  which  makes 
Charles  of  Lorraine  an  older  and  more  experienced,  hut  not  a 
braver  man  than  you  ;  but  you  will  return  to  your  duty,  and 
emulate  his  greatness.  Ambition  is  inseparable  from  valor  ; 
but  it  must  be  checked  by  reason,  or  it  degenerates  into  envy. 
What  would  you  think  of  a  crown  prince  who  should  feel  hu- 
miliated at  his  subordinate  rank  when  compared  with  that  of 
his  father  ?  When  you  entered  my  service,  the  Duke  of  Lor- 
raine was  already  general-in-chief  of  the  armies  of  Austria ; 
and,  as  he  has  always  led  them  to  victory,  it  would  be  in  the 
highest  degree  unjust  to  supersede  him  by  another.  He  who 
would  command,  must  first  learn  to  obey.  Margrave  of  Ba- 
den, I  cannot  accept  your  resignation." 

**  I  will  do  my  duty,*'  replied  Louis,  bowing  low  before  the 
emperor's  reproof.  *'  I  submit  myself  to  your  majesty's  de- 
cision, and  remain. ' 

"Say,  rather,"  returned  Leopold,  smiling  affectionately 
upon  tbe  young  prince,  "  say  rather  that  you  go,  for  the  cam- 
"paign  must  open  at  once.  Be  diligent.  Count  von  Starhem- 
berg ;  inaugurate  your  preparations  this  very  day  ;  and  you, 
Field-Marshal  Prince  of  Savoy,  hasten  to  Innspruck,  to  com- 
municate to  the  Duke  of  Lorraine  the  result  of  our  council  of 
war." 

'•  I  thank  your  majesty,"  replied  Eugene,  "  for  this  gracious 
command.  May  I  be  permitted  to  retire,  and  make  my  prepa- 
rations to  leave  ? " 

The  emperor  bowed  his  head,  and  addressed  the  Margrave 
of  Baden.  "  As  there  is  no  such  urgency  attending  the  move- 
ments of  your  highness,  I  will  be  happy  to  consider  you  as 
my  guest,  and  shall  expect  the  pleasure  of  your  company  at 
the  opera. — You  also,  gentlemen,"  added  he  to  the  other  mem- 
bers of  the  war  department.  "  The  empress  is  already  in  the 
theatre,  awaiting  our  coming." 

And  with  these  words,  the  emperor,  followed  by  his  council- 
lors, left  the  room.  Without,  the  court  was  waiting  to  accom- 
pany him  ;  and,  when  the  lord-chamberlain  had  announced 


342  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

to  the  world  that  his  majesty  the  emperor  was  about  to 
visit  the  opera,  the  long,  brilliant  cortege  set  itself  in  mo- 
tion. 


CHAPTER    II. 

THE  DUMB  MUSIC. 

The  court  entered  the  theatre.  The  emperor's  suite  took 
possession  of  the  boxes  on  either  side  of  the  one  appropriated 
to  the  imperial  family,  while  Leopold,  followed  by  Prince 
Eugene,  whom  he  delighted  to  honor,  entered  the  imperial  box. 

"  I  wish  to  present  our  new  field- marshal  to  the  empress, "^ 
said  he  to  his  courtiers. 

The  empress  was  seated  in  one  corner  of  the  box,  busily  en- 
gaged with  a  piece  of  embroidery.  She  was  so  absorbed  in  the 
mysteries  of  silk  and  golden  stitching,  that  she  scarcely  re- 
marked the  entrance  of  the  court.  For  a  moment  her  eyes 
met  those  of  the  emperor,  to  whom  she  bowed  and  smiled  ; 
then,  bending  her  head  again,  she  resumed  her  work. 

The  emperor  took  a  seat  by  her,  and  watched  her  flying  fin- 
gers with  affectionate  interest.  "Your  majesty  is  unusually 
industrious  to-day,"  said  he,  smiling,  and  touching  the  em- 
broidery. 

"  I  was  merely  beguiling  the  hour  of  expectation  which  has 
passed  away  with  your  majesty's  presence,  by  completing  a 
flower  on  this  altar-cloth,  intended  for  the  chapel  of  the 
blessed  Eleanor,  my  namesake." 

"  The  blessed  Eleanor  must  excuse  you  to-day  if  I  claim 
your  presence  here,"  replied  the  emperor.  "  And  let  me  im- 
plore you  for  a  while  to  fold  those  busy  hands,  and  give  your 
attention  to  the  music  which  has  been  gotten  up  for  your  es- 
pecial gratification." 

The  empress  quietly  folded  her  work,  and  rose  from  her 
tabouret. 

"  Allow  me  to  present  to  your  majesty  the  youngest  field- 
marshal  in  the  army,"  said  Leopold,  signing  to  Eugene  to  ad- 
vance. 


THE  DUMB  MUSIC.  34a 

"  I  congratulate  your  highness,"  replied  the  empress,  while 
Eugene  knelt  and  kissed  her  hand.  "  Are  you,  indeed,  so  very- 
young,  prince  ? " 

" No,  your  majesty,"  said  he,  sadly.  "I  am  so  old,  that  I 
"wonder  my  hair  is  not  gray." 

*'  Indeed  !    How  old  are  you,  then  ? " 

"Your  majesty,  I  am  forty-six  years  of  age,"  replied 
Eugene. 

"  Why,  how  can  you  say  such  a  thing,"  exclaimed  Leopold,. 
"  when  everybody  knows  you  to  be  just  twenty-three  ? " 

"  Your  majesty,  are  not  the  years  of  active  service  reckoned 
by  the  soldier  as  double  ? " 

*'  Yes,  assuredly,  my  young  field-marshal." 

*'  Then,  my  liege,  I  am  forty-six  years  of  age,  for  my  life^ 
has  been  one  long  war  with  troubles  and  trials." 

The  empress  looked  sympathizingly  into  the  deep,  sad  eyes- 
of  the  young  prince,  and  saw  that  he  spoke  the  truth. 

"  Have  you  then  had  many  sorrows  ? "  asked  she,  gently. 

"  Ay,  your  majesty  ;  I  have  struggled  and  suffered  since 
childhood,  for  I  have  ever  been  a  soldier  of  misfortune." 

"  But  you  are  no  longer  one,"  said  Leopold,  laying  his  hand 
upon  Eugene's  shoulder  ;  "  you  have  taken  the  oath  of  alle- 
giance to  Austria,  and  misfortune  has  now  no  claim  upon  you." 

Eugene  looked  up,  and  the  face  of  the  emperor  was  beaming 
with  kindness.  "  Whatever  betide,  my  liege,"  returned  he,  "  I 
am  yours  for  life,  and  Austria  is  my  land  of  adoption." 

*'  I  am  glad  to  hear  it ;  and  now  there  is  but  one  thing^ 
wanting  to  make  you  a  subject  after  my  own  heart.  You 
must  marry  an  Austrian  wife  that  shall  make  you  as  happy  a 
husband  as  myself,  and  transform  earth  into  heaven,  as  her 
majesty  has  done  for  me.  It  is  in  commemoration  of  my  own 
happiness  that  I  have  chosen  the  ox)era  of  *  II  Pomo  d'Oro'  to 
celebrate  the  empress's  festival.  '  II  Pomo  d'Oro ' — that  is,  a 
happy  union — the  golden  apple  of  paradise." 

And  the  emj)eror,  enchanted  to  have  turned  the  conversa- 
tion to  a  subject  which  was  to  him  of  supreme  interest,  offered 
his  arm  to  the  empress,  and  conducted  her  to  the  front  of  the 
box. 

As  goon  as  their  majesties  appeared,  the  spectators  rose  and 
23 


S4:4:  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

<jheered  them  enthusiastically.  The  imperial  pair  took  their 
seats,  and  behind  them  stood  Prince  Eugene,  the  only  other 
occupant  of  the  box. 

The  emperor  now  waved  his  hand  as  a  signal  to  the  marshal 
of  the  household,  who,  raising  his  gilded  staff,  conveyed  the 
imperial  command  to  the  leader  of  the  orchestra.  "His  maj- 
esty is  graciously  pleased  that  the  opera  shall  commence,"  cried 
the  lord- chamberlain. 

The  leader  bowed  to  the  emperor,  and  took  his  place,  which 
was  conspicuously  raised  above  that  of  the  other  musicians. 

"  His  majesty  is  graciously  pleased  to  allow  all  present  to  be 
seated,"  was  the  second  cry  of  the  emperor's  mouth-piece. 
And  now  was  heard  a  rustling  of  ladies'  silks,  and  of  cavaliers' 
velvets,  and  the  grateful  spectators  took  their  seats,  while  the 
emperor,  with  a  look  of  extreme  satisfaction,  opened  the  score 
of  the  Pomo  d'Oro,  laid  it  on  the  ledge  of  the  box,  and  began 
to  hum  the  overture. 

"  Have  you  your  text-book  ? "  asked  he  of  the  empress.  "  I 
ordered  one  for  your  especial  use  ;  a  synopsis  of  the  opera,  with 
the  principal  airs  only.  I  hope  that  you  received  it.  This  one 
is  too  heavy  for  you." 

The  empress  pointed  to  a  purple-velvet  book  at  her  side,  and 
slightly  bowed  her  head. 

Leopold  nodded,  much  pleased,  and  then  gave  his  attention 
to  the  stage. 

The  audience  breathlessly  awaited  the  opening.  The  leader 
^flourished  his  baton.  The  violins  raised  their  bows,  the  haut- 
boys and  horns  were  clapped  to  the  mouths  of  their  respective 
performers,  bass-viols  were  seized,  harps  were  clutched,  and 
drumsticks  were  raised  in  the  air. 

Nevertheless,  not  a  sound  was  heard  from  the  orchestra  ! 

The  emperor  looked  up  from  his  score,  and  there,  to  be  sure, 
was  the  leader,  his  baton  going  from  left  to  right — there  were 
the  violins  busy  with  their  bows  ;  the  wind  instruments  were 
blowing  for  dear  life ;  the  harpists  were  tugging  at  their 
strings  ;  the  drumsticks  were  going  with  all  their  might — and 
not  a  sound  !  The  musicians  might  just  as  well  have  been  so 
many  phantoms. 

The  emperor,  in  his  bewilderment,  turned  to  the  empress, 


THE  DUMB  MUSIC.  345 

who  was  so  profoundly  engaged  with  her  score,  that  she  mur- 
mured the  words  thereof  half  aloud. 

"  Do  you  hear  the  music  ? "  asked  her  husband. 

She  started  a  little,  and,  blushing  deeply,  looked  very  much 
confused.  "  Yes,  yes,"  replied  she,  absently  ;  "it  is  very 
fine." 

"  I  must  then  have  lost  my  hearing,"  said  Leopold  ;  "  for  I 
hear  nothing. "  And  a  second  time  he  glanced  at  the  orchestra, 
where  the  music  was  proceeding  with  the  utmost  energy. 

"  I  cannot  unriddle  the  mystery,"  thought  the  emperor,  "  for 
the  empress  hears  the  music  and  pronounces  it  fine.  Prince 
Eugene,"  added  he,  aloud,  "  Do  you  hear  any  thing  ? " 

"Not  a  sound,  your  majesty." 

The  emperor,  looking  very  much  relieved,  beckoned  to  the 
lord-chamberlain,  and  sent  him  to  inquire  into  the  matter. 

The  audience,  meanwhile,  were  quite  as  astounded  as  their 
sovereign.  However,  after  a  time  they  began  to  whisper  and 
smile  ;  and  finally,  as  the  drummer  performed  an  extra  flour- 
ish with  his  drumsticks,  a  voice  was  heard  to  cry  out,  "  Bravo  I 
bravo  I" 

This  was  the  signal  for  a  general  burst  of  laughter,  which 
the  marshal  of  the  household,  though  he  shook  his  baton  furi- 
ously, was  impotent  to  quell.  While  the  merriment  was  at 
its  height  the  lord-chamberlain  returned,  and  his  countenance 
was  expressive  of  extreme  indignation. 

Leopold,  who  for  a  moment  had  forgotten  his  Spanish  for- 
mality, and  had  retired  to  the  back  of  the  box,  advanced  eager- 
ly to  meet  him. 

"  What  says  the  leader  ? "  asked  he,  hastily. 

"  The  leader,  your  majesty,  is  in  despair,  and  is  as  much  at 
a  loss  to  account  for  the  eccentricity  of  his  orchestra  as  the 
audience  themselves.  He  says  that  the  last  rehearsal  was  per- 
fectly satisfactory." 

"  Gk>,  then,  to  the  musicians.  See  the  first  violin,  Baron 
Ton  Hietmann,  and  tell  him  that  the  overture  must  com- 
mence." 

The  lord-chamberlain  went  off  on  his  mission,  while  Leo- 
pold, in  undisguised  impatience,  stood  at  the  door  of  his  box 
waiting.    The  empress,  apparently  not  cognizant  of  any  thing 


346  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

around  her,  kept  her  eyes  steadfastly  riveted  on  her  book. 
Prince  Eugene  had  risen,  and  stood  behind  the  emperor. 

"  What  think  you  of  this  opera  comique  ? "  asked  Leopold. 

"It  is  past  my  comprehension,  your  majesty.  I  cannot 
conceive  how  they  presume  to — " 

The  emperor  suddenly  interrupted  him.  "  I  begin  to  appre= 
bend  the  difficulty,"  said  he,  laughing.  "  My  musicians  are  all 
of  high  rank,  and,  as  noblemen  and  artistes,  they  have  a  two- 
fold pride.  They  know  perfectly  well  that  I  cannot  do  with- 
out them,  and  they  occasionally  take  advantage  of  the  fact  to 
annoy  me.  They  have  some  cause  of  complaint,  I  confess, 
and — Ah  !    What  says  Baron  Eietmann  ? " 

"  My  liege," — replied  the  chamberlain,  pale  and  breathless. 

"Do  not  look  so  terrified,"  said  Leopold  ;  "what  says  the 
baron  ? " 

"  Your  majesty,  I  am  ashamed  to  be  the  bearer  of  his  mes- 
sage," sighed  the  chamberlain.  "He  says  their  instruments 
will  be  dumb  until  the  arrears  due  the  orchestra  for  the  last 
three  months  are  paid  I " 

At  this  the  emperor  burst  into  an  audible  fit  of  laughter  ; 
then,  remembering  himself,  he  glanced  anxiously  at  his  impas- 
sible empress,  to  see  if  she  had  overheard  him.  No  ;  she  was 
perfectly  unconscious  of  any  thing  but  her  book. 

"  Eietmann  is  a  bold  fellow,"  said  Leopold  at  length,  "  but 
he  is  a  great  artiste,  and  I  forgive  his  presumption.  He  is 
quite  correct,  however,  as  regards  the  orchestra.  The  imperial 
treasury  has  been  drained  for  the  army,  and  nothing  remains 
for  my  musicians." 

"  Your  majesty  must  order  the  army  to  refill  the  treasury 
at  the  expense  of  the  enemy,"  said  Eugene,  with  a  smile.  "  It 
is  said  that  the  grand-vizier  has  immense  treasures  in  Bel- 
grade." 

"  Capture  them  all,  field-marshal,  for  we  are  sorely  in  need 
of  them.  But  let  us  try  first  to  compromise  with  these  mu- 
sical rebels  here. — Go,  my  lord -chamberlain,  to  Baron  Eiet- 
mann, and  say  that  the  arrears  due  the  orchestra  shall  be  paid 
to-morrow,  and  thereunto  I  pledge  my  imperial  word. — Now, 
Prince  Eugene,  let  us  resume  our  seats.  I  presume  that  my 
golden  promises  will  restore  the  dumb  to  speech." 


THE  RETIREMENT  OF  THE  COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF.     347 

And  so  they  did.  Scarcely  had  the  lord-chamberlain 
whispered  the  emperor's  dulcet  words  into  the  baron's  ear,  be- 
fore a  signal  passed  between  the  musicians,  and  the  overture 
began.* 

The  scenic  effect  of  the  opera  was  beautiful.  The  fount- 
ains were  of  real  water,  and  graceful  naiads  disported  within 
their  marble  basins  ;  and  there  was  lightning  and  thimder ; 
there  were  transformations  of  men  into  animals,  and  finally, 
there  was  a  golden  apple  which  fructified  into  a  bewitching 
fairy.  She  sang  so  delightfully  that  the  emperor,  in  his  en- 
thusiasm, let  fall  his  score,  and  applauded  with  all  his  might. 

The  fairy  was  encored,  and  as  she  was  about  to  repeat  her 
aria,  the  emperor  turned  to  the  empress  and  requested  leave 
to  be  allowed  the  use  of  her  text-book  for  a  few  minutes.  In 
his  eagerness  he  did  not  remark  her  exceeding  confusion  ; 
but  as,  taking  the  book  from  her  hands,  he  gave  a  glance  at 
its  pages,  he  uttered  an  exclamation  of  surprise. 

And  no  wonder  I  For,  instead  of  an  opera-score,  he  found 
a  prayer-book  1 

"  I  hoi)e  your  majesty  will  excuse  me,"  stammered  the  em- 
press. "  In  absence  of  mind,  I  brought  my  prayer-book  in- 
stead of  the  score." 

"  And  your  majesty  was  praying  for  us,"  replied  Leopold, 
half -vexed,  half -amused.  *'  But  in  our  sinful  way,  we,  too,  are 
praying ;  for  surely  music  such  as  this  is  both  prayer  and 
praise ;  and  He  who  taught  the  nightingale  her  song,  must 
surely  rejoice  to  hear  from  human  tongues  the  strains  which 
He  has  revealed  to  inspired  human  genius  I " 


CHAPTER  HI. 

THE  RETnUBaiENT  OF  THE  OOMMANDER-IN-OHIEF. 

The  imperial  army,  in  five  divisions,  had  marched  to  the 
Turkish  frontier.  They  had  traversed  Transylvania,  taking, 
on  their  way,  the  fortresses  of  Grosswardein,  Sziget,  and  Ca- 

*  Thia  scene  b  hiMtorical.— See  "  Life  and  Deeds  of  Leopold  tlio  Great" 


348  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

nisclia  ;  and,  farther  on  their  victorious  march,  Peterwardein 
and  lUock. 

The  Turks  had  pursued  their  usual  mode  of  vengeful  re- 
treat, tracing  their  march  with  fire  and  blood,  and,  whereso- 
ever they  were  forced  to  surrender,  leaving  to  the  victors 
naught  but  the  smouldering  ruins  of  the  strongholds  from 
which  they  had  been  driven. 

The  imperialists  were  eager  to  invest  Belgrade  ;  but  their 
general-in-chief  was  ill ;  and  for  several  days  they  had  watched 
in  vain  to  see  the  hangings  of  his  tent  drawn  aside,  and  hear 
the  welcome  order  to  march. 

Finally  a  courier  arrived  from  Vienna,  and  it  was  rumored 
that  instructions  had  been  received  to  advance.  The  troops 
^ere  all  the  more  hopeful  that,  immediately  after  the  dismissal 
of  the  courier,  the  Duke  of  Lorraine  had  sent  a  messenger 
to  Field-Marshal  the  Prince  of  Savoy,  requesting  his  presence 
at  headquarters. 

The  prince  obeyed  the  summons  without  delay,  and,  enter- 
ing the  tent,  found  the  adjutant  and  the  duke's  physician,  sit- 
ting together,  discoursing  mournfully  to  each  other  of  the  ill- 
ness of  the  beloved  commander. 

"  I  fear,"  said  the  surgeon,  "  that  his  highness  is  attacked 
with  nervous  fever ;  his  symptoms  indicate  it.  He  passed  a 
restless  night,  and  is  suffering  from  intense  headache.  He 
must  not  be  excited  ;  he  can  therefore  see  nobody." 

"  But  he  has  sent  for  me,"  objected  Eugene. 

The  surgeon  shook  his  head.  "  Your  highness  has  heard 
my  opinion,  and,  if  you  approach  him,  it  must  be  on  your  own 
responsibility." 

"  I  am  a  soldier,"  replied  Eugene,  smiling,  "and  must  obey 
orders.  I  have  been  sent  for  by  the  general,  and  must  at 
least  be  announced." 

At  this  moment  the  hangings  of  the  inner  tent  were  drawn 
aside,  and  Martin,  the  duke's  old  valet,  came  forward. 

"  Am  I  wanted  ? "  asked  the  surgeon. 

"No,  sir,"  replied  Martin.  "His  excellency  bade  me 
see  if  the — Ah  !  There  he  is  !  Your  highness,  the  duke 
begs  your  presence  at  once,  and  requests  these  gentlemen 
to  leave  the  tent  until  his  conference  with  your  highness  is 


THE  RETIREMENT  OF  THE  COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF.     349 

at  an  end.  He  is  very  nervous,  and  the  least  rustling  affects 
his  head." 

*■'  Just  as  I  feared,"  sighed  the  surgeon.  "  Martin,  in  one 
hour  I  shall  return,  to  change  the  cold  compress." 

Eugene  entered  the  sleeping  apartment  of  the  duke,  and 
his  pleasure  at  being  admitted  to  see  his  commander,  was 
changed  into  anxiety,  when  he  beheld  the  pale,  careworn  face 
of  the  duke,  and  saw  his  head  enveloped  in  bandages. 

"  Martin,  have  they  left  the  tent  ? "  inquired  he,  languidly. 

"  Yes,  your  highness  ;  and  I  shall  remain  and  keep  watch 
that  no  one  may  enter." 

"  Do  it,  good  Martin,  for  indeed  I  do  not  wish  to  be  dis- 
turbed." 

Martin  disappeared,  and  the  duke,  removing  his  bandages, 
rose  from  the  couch,  and  sank  into  an  arm  chair. 

*'  We  are  alone,  and  I  may  as  well  dispense  with  all  this  ; 
it  is  needless." 

"  Then,  your  highness,  God  be  thanked,  is  not  sick  ? "  ex- 
claimed Eugene. 

"  Yes,  I  am  sick,"  replied  the  duke,  sadly,  "  but  not  in  the 
sense  in  which  my  physician  supposes.  A  malady  of  the  mind 
is  not  to  be  cured  by  compresses." 

'*  Have  you  bad  news  ? "  asked  Eugene,  with  tender  sym- 
pathy. 

"Ah,  yes,"  sighed  the  duke.  "Bad  news  for  him  who,  lov- 
ing his  fatherland  more  than  self,  is  withheld  from  willing 
sacrifice  by  the  unworthy  strivings  of  ambition  with  duty. 
But  of  that  anon.  I  have  sent  for  you  to  confer  of  the  affairs 
of  the  Austrian  army  ;  for  I  know  that  I  can  coimt  upon  your 
sincerity,  and  trust  to  your  discretion." 

"  Your  highness  knows  how  unspeakable  is  the  love  I  bear 
you  :  you  well  know  that  it  is  the  aim  of  my  life  to  imitate, 
though  I  may  never  hope  to  rival,  your  greatness." 

"  I  thank  you  for  your  honest  affection,  dear  Eugene,"  re- 
plied the  duke,  looking  fondly  into  the  speaking  face  of  his 
youthful  worshipper.  "  I  thank  God  that  you  are  here,  to 
complete  what  I  am  forced  to  leave  unfinished." 

"  Your  highness  would  forsake  Austria  1 "  cried  Eugene, 
alarmed. 


350  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

"Ask  rather,  my  son,  whether  Austria  has  not  forsaken 
me,"  was  the  mournful  reply.  "It  is  of  this  that  I  would 
speak  with  you.  You  are  the  only  officer  in  the  army  that 
does  not  hear  me  ill-will ;  and  to  your  sound  and  impartial 
judgment  I  am  about  to  submit  the  question  of  my  resigna- 
tion." 

"  Resignation  ! " 

"  Yes  ;  but  first  let  us  talk  of  the  campaign  which  is  before 
us.    You  know  that  its  main  object  is  the  capture  of  Belgrade. " 

Eugene  bowed  assent. 

The  duke  laid  his  finger  on  a  topographical  chart  that  lay 
on  a  table  close  by.  "  Here  is  the  key  which  opens  the  door 
to  Turkey.  Unless  we  obtain  this  key,  our  past  victories  are  all 
without  significance,  and  for  years  we  have  been  pouring  out 
Christian  blood  in  vain." 

"  But  we  shall  take  Belgrade,"  cried  Eugene.  "  We  have 
sixty-six  thousand  well-armed  men,  all  eager  for  the  fray." 

"  And  the  Turks  have  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand." 

"  But  they  are  not  a  consolidated  army,  and  we  must  pre- 
vent them  from  uniting  their  forces." 

"  True  ;  and  for  this  end  I  have  sent  Prince  Louis  of  Baden 
to  Bosnia  with  six  thousand  men,  that  he  may  keep  them  busy 
at  Gradiska.  But  the  long  march  has  exhausted  his  troops, 
and  he  has  written  to  ask  for  re-enforcements.  I  must  grant 
them  ;  and  to-morrow  I  send  him  four  thousand  men.  How 
many  does  that  leave  us  ? " 

"  About  fifty  thousand,  general." 

"  Suppose  the  enemy  oppose  fifty  thousand  to  our  ten,  in 
Bosnia,  there  still  remain  to  him  twice  as  many  as  we  can  op- 
pose to  him." 

"  Yes  ;  but  they  are  not  commanded  by  a  Duke  of  Lorraine," 
exclaimed  Eugene,  with  enthusiasm.  "  A  great  general  out- 
weighs the  disparity  of  numbers." 

A  sad  smile  played  about  the  duke's  features.  "  I  am  not 
indispensable  to  Austria's  success,"  said  he.  "  My  men  will 
fight  as  bravely  under  another  commander  as  they  have  done 
under  me  ;  but  I  do  not  say  that  I  relinquish  them  to  that 
other  without  a  pang." 

"  Has  such  a  question  been  raised  ? "  asked  Eugene,  sadly. 


THE  RETIREMEXT   OF  THE   COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF.     351 

"You  are  too  close  an  observer  not  to  have  suspected  it. 
Do  you  remember  my  telling  you  that  I  would  be  obliged  to 
•uccumb  to  the  hatred  of  my  enemies  ? " 

"  Yes,  your  highness." 

"  I  did  not  overrate  their  influence.  Even  those  who  hate 
each  other  forget  their  hatred,  to  persecute  me.  And  yet  I 
have  never  done  them  the  least  wrong.  There  is  Prince  Louis 
of  Baden — I  have  shown  him  every  mark  of  distinction  in  my 
power,  and  yet  he  hates  me." 

'*  Too  true,"  sighed  Eugene.  "  And  I  confess  that  since  I 
have  known  it,  I  love  him  less." 

"You  are  wrong.  He  is  merely  an  echo  of  his  uncle,  who 
has  some  rigbt  to  hate  me,  for  to  me  he  owes  the  loss  of  his 
place  as  president  of  the  war  department.  He  was  not  fit  for 
the  oflBce,  and  I  convinced  the  emperor  of  his  incapacity. 
This,  I  allow,  to  be  a  ground  of  dislike.  But  there  is  another 
distinguished  officer,  too,  that  hates  me.  What  have  I  done  to 
Max  Emmanuel  ? " 

"  You  have  not  only  given  him  every  opportunity  to  gain 
renown,  but  often  have  I  admired  your  magnanimity  when  he 
has  conspicuously  paraded  his  ill-will." 

*'  I  thank  you  for  that  avowal,  Eugene  ;  for  well  I  know 
how  unwillingly  you  blame  the  elector.  And  he  deserves  your 
friendship,  for  he  loves  you  sincerely.  He  has  a  noble  heart, 
although  I  have  not  been  able  to  win  it ;  he  is  a  fearless  hero, 
and  a  great  military  chieftain.  It  is  a  pity  that  we  were  con- 
temporaries. Were  I  to  die  to-day,  no  man  would  be  louder 
in  my  praise  than  he  ;  but  I  live,  and  he  cannot  brook  a  rival." 

*'  Nay,  your  highness,  he  is  not  so  presuming  as  to  suppose 
that  he  is  worthy  to  supplant  you." 

"  He  is  about  to  supplant  me,  Eugene.  I  forgive  him  ;  for 
he  is  young,  ambitious,  and  conscious  of  his  own  genius, 
which,  while  I  enjoy  the  chief  command,  is  hampered  by  a 
subordinate  position.  He  is  just  as  capable  as  myself  ;  but  I 
do  not  feel  that  he  is  my  superior,  and  therefore  it  pains  me  to 
be  obliged  to  resign  my  command  to  him." 

**  You  do  not  think  of  such  a  thing.  1  What  would  be  the 
effect  of  your  retirement  upon  the  troops  ? " 

"  They  would  cry  out,  as  the  Frenchmen  do, '  Le  roi  est  mort^ 


352  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

vive  le  roi  ! '  I  am  not  self -deceived  as  to  the  ephemeral  nature 
of  military  popularity.  It  is  always  directed  toward  an  ob- 
ject present  and  tangible,  and  speedily  consoles  itself  for  the 
loss  of  one  idol  by  replacing  it  with  another.  But  now,  listen 
to  me.  A  courier  has  just  arrived  from  Vienna.  The  presi- 
dent of  the  war  department  declares  himself  unable  to  put  any 
more  troops  in  the  field  ;  he  has  neither  money  nor  munition 
more.  The  emperor  writes  under  his  own  hand  that  he  has 
several  times  called  upon  the  Elector  of  Bavaria  to  join  his 
command,  and  place  himself  at  the  head  of  his  Bavarians." 

"  And  he  has  refused  ! "  cried  Eugene. 

"  No.  He  has  accepted,  but  conditionally  only.  Can  you 
guess  his  conditions  ? " 

Eugene  turned  pale  and  stammered  :  "  Your  highness,  I 
cannot — I  hope  that  I  do  not — " 

"Well,  I  see  that  you  have  guessed.  He  demands  the 
chief  command  of  the  entire  army." 

"  But  if  the  emperor,  as  a  matter  of  course,  refuses  this  un- 
reasonable and  presumptuous  demand  ? " 

"  Then  he  withdraws  his  troops.  Peace — peace  !  I  know 
that  you  love  the  elector  :  let  us  not  discuss  his  acts,  but  con- 
sider their  bearings  upon  the  welfare  of  Austria.  For  months 
the  emperor  has  been  trying  to  arrange  matters,  but  all  in 
\rain.  Count  Strattmann,  the  last  envoy,  who  had  a  long  per- 
sonal interview  with  Max,  says  that  he  will  not  retreat  from 
his  exactions.  He  assumes  the  chief  command,  or  his  troops 
are  this  day  ordered  to  Bavaria." 

"  The  emperor  will  never  yield.     He  ought  not  to  yield." 

"  The  decision  of  this  difficulty  has  been  left  with  me.  Max 
is  close  at  hand,  in  Essek,  awaiting  my  determination.  And 
now,  Eugene,  what  answer  shall  I  send  him  ?  " 

"  There  is  but  one.  The  Austrian  army  cannot  spare  the 
Duke  of  Lorraine." 

"  But  still  less  can  it  spare  the  Bavarian  troops.  How  many 
men  did  you  say  that  we  counted  in  all  ? " 

"  Fifty  thousand,  your  highness." 

"  And  of  these,  how  many  are  from  Bavaria  ? " 

"  Eight  thousand  infantry,"  said  Eugene,  with  a  sigh. 

"  And  four  thousand  cavalry.   In  all,  twelve  thousand  ;  and 


THE  RETIREMENT  OF  THE  COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF.    353 

let  us  do  him  justice  :  the  troops  of  the  elector  are  £in  admira- 
bly disciplined  and  efficient  body  of  men.  Now,  if  we  lose 
this  number,  our  foi^es  are  reduced  to  thirty-eight  thousand. 
Can  we  confront  a  hundred  thousand  Turks  with  such  a  hand- 
ful?" 

Eugene  spoke  not  a  word.  His  face  was  bent  over  the 
chart,  but  it  was  easy  to  see  that  he  was  powerfully  agitated. 
After  a  long  silence,  the  duke  pointed  with  his  finger  to  the 
spot  on  the  map  which  the  prince  had  apparently  been  ex- 
amining. 

"  This  tear  is  my  answer,"  said  he.  "  We  cannot  spare  the 
Bavarians." 

"  Too  true,"  murmured  Eugene,  "  too  true." 

"  Then  the  general  must  sacrifice  his  ambition  to  the  na- 
tional welfare  ;  he  must  retire  from  his  command." 

"  Oh,  no  !  Not  yet.  Let  me  go  to  the  elector.  We  are  in- 
timate friends,  and  I  will  persuade  him  to  retract  his  unright- 
eous exactions." 

"  You  will  not  succeed.  Moreover,  I  would  not  accept  the 
sacrifice.  Could  we  have  done  without  his  troops,  I  would 
joyfully  have  retained  my  command  ;  but  we  have  no  right  to 
ask  of  Max  Emmanuel,  who  cannot  be  spared,  to  yield  to  me 
who  can  be  spared.  I  repeat  it,  then :  I  accept  no  sacrifice 
from  the  elector,  nor  will  I  be  outdone  by  any  man  in  magna- 
nimity. The  wound  smarts,  I  am  not  ashamed  to  confess  it ; 
but  my  duty  is  too  clear  before  me  for  hesitation  ;  and  in  its 
fulfilment  I  have  great  consolation.  To  you,  dear  Eugene,  this 
hour  will  afford  a  valuable  lesson." 

"  Ay,  indeed,"  replied  Eugene.  ''  It  will  teach  me  high  re- 
solve and  holy  resignation.  If  I  ever  should  be  tempted  to 
envy  the  greatness  of  a  rival,  I  will  remember  the  day  on 
which  my  friend's  mad  ambition  deprived  an  army  of  its  great 
and  renowned  commander." 

"  You  are  not  apt  to  have  rivals,  Eugene,  for  you  will  sur- 
pass all  your  contemporaries  in  military  genius.  As  for  me,  I 
retire,  but  I  shall  probably  find  other  opportunities  of  using 
my  sword  for  Austria.  If — as  God  grant  1— we  should  be  vic- 
torious again  this  year,  the  King  of  France  will  show  his  teeth, 
and  perhaps  the  laurels  I  have  lost  on  the  Save  I  may  recover 


354  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

on  the  Ehine.  And  now,  son  of  my  heart,  farewell !  God  be 
with  you,  now  and  evermore  ! " 

He  embraced  Eugene  with  affection,  and,  returning  to  the 
table,  rang  for  Martin.  The  old  man  answered  the  summons, 
whereupon  the  duke  began  at  once  to  give  orders  for  his  de- 
parture. 

"Say  to  the  surgeon  that  my  head  is  worse,  and  that  I 
crave  his  attendance.  Then  see  the  imperial  couriers,  and 
send  them  hither." 

"  The  surgeon  is  here,"  said  that  individual,  coming  for- 
ward.    "  But  what  do  I  see  ?    Your  highness  has  risen  ? " 

'*  Yes,  doctor,  for  I  am  too  ill  to  remain  in  camp  any  longer, 
and  we  must  start  to-day  for  Innspruck,  where  you  will  find 
me  an  altered  man,  and  the  most  submissive  of  patients." 

"  Thank  Heaven  ! "  replied  the  surgeon,  "  for  your  highness 
needs  rest." 

"  I  will  take  as  much  as  is  needful,"  said  the  duke.  ''  And 
now,"  added  he  to  Eugene,  "  will  you  do  me  a  last  favor  ? " 

"  What  can  I  do  for  your  highness  ?" 

"  Seat  yourself  at  my  escritoire,  and  write  what  I  shall  dic- 
tate." 

Eugene  took  up  his  pen  and  wrote  : 

"  Instructions  for  my  officers : 

"  My  health  being  too  weak  to  allow  of  my  remaining  any 
longer  in  active  service,  I  am  compelled  to  resign  the  com- 
mand of  the  imperial  armies  to  another.  My  successor,  his 
highness  the  Elector  of  Bavaria,  is  at  Essek,  and  will  be  with 
the  army  in  a  few  hours.  Until  his  arrival,  I  appoint  Field- 
Marshal  Count  Caprara  my  representative.  God  protect  the 
emperor  and  his  brave  army  I  " 

"  Thank  you,  prince,"  added  the  duke.  "  Now  be  so  good  as 
to  reach  me  your  pen,  that  I  may  sign  my  name." 

When  his  signature  had  been  appended  to  this  short  proc- 
lamation, the  duke,  sighing  heavily,  said,  "  Eugene,  do  you 
know  what  I  have  just  signed  ?    My  death-warrant  1 " 

"  Oh,  my  general ! " 

"  Hush  !    Here  come  the  couriers." 


THE  RETIREMENT  OF  THE  COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF.    355 

The  duke  bade  them  welcome,  adding,  "  Did  his  imperial 
majesty  charge  you  with  any  letter  subject  to  my  order  ? " 

'*  Yes,  your  highness.  We  have  one  to  the  Elector  of  Ba- 
varia, which,  according  as  your  highness  commanded,  was  to 
be  delivered  to  the  elector,  or  returned  to  his  majesty." 

"  Hasten  to  Essek,  and  deliver  it  to  the  elector.— And  you, 
baron,"  said  he,  addressing  the  other  courier,  "  return  to  Vi- 
enna, and  say  to  the  emperor  that,  as  you  were  leaving  the 
camp,  I  was  departing  for  Innspruck  ;  and,  that  you  may  be 
able  to  speak  the  truth  literally,  you  shall  see  me  go.  If  I 
mistake  not,  Martin  is  coming  to  say  that  my  travelling-car- 
riage awaits  me." 

"Yes,  your  highness,  we  wait  for  nothing  but  your  com- 
mands." 

"  Then  let  us  depart.  Doctor,  you  will  bear  me  company 
as  far  as  Innspruck,  will  you  not  ?  Give  me  your  arm,  Prince 
Eugene." 

With  these  words,  he  put  his  arm  around  the  prince's  neck, 
and,  supporting  himself  on  that  slender  frame,  the  duke,  who 
was  a  man  of  tall  stature,  left  his  tent,  and  walked  slowly  to 
the  carriage. 

Behind  him,  in  solemn  silence,  came  the  physician  and  the 
two  couriers.  At  the  door  of  the  chariot  he  let  his  arm  glide 
away  from  Eugene's  neck,  gave  him  one  last  fond  look,  one 
last  friendly  pressure,  and  then  was  gone  I 

The  prince  followed  him  with  his  eyes,  until  the  chariot 
had  disappeared  from  view.  Then,  sad  and  solitary,  he  re- 
turned to  his  own  tent. 

*'  And  thus  T  am  doomed  to  lose  all  that  I  love  ! "  was  his 
bitter  reflection.  "  The  Duke  of  Lorraine— Laura  1— Oh,  my 
Laura,  how  light  to  me  were  other  losses,  wert  thou  but  here 
to  smile  me  to  forgetfulness  I " 

And,  with  his  head  bowed  down  between  his  hands,  Eugene 
forgot  all  time,  to  dream  of  his  love.  For  several  hours  he 
sat  thus — his  spirit  all  unconscious  of  the  day,  the  hour,  the 
place — when  suddenly  he  was  aroused  from  his  reverie  by  a 
familiar  voice. 

"  Eugene,"  cried  Max  Emmanuel,  "  where  are  you  ?  The 
whole  army  is  shouting  me  a  welcome,  and  my  friend  has  no 


356  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

greeting  for  me  !  He  waits  until  I  force  myself  into  his  tent 
to  claim  his  congratulations  ! " 

"  I  was  not  awrae  that  your  highness  had  arrived.    I — I — "^ 

"  And  is  this  my  welcome  ! "  cried  the  elector,  disappointed. 
"  Are  you  displeased  with  me  for  superseding  your  master  and 
hero  ? " 

"  Yes,  proud,  ambitious  Max,  I  am  grieved ;  for  you  are 
right,  he  was  my  master  and  my  hero." 

"  Proud,  ambitious,  am  I  ?  Yes,  I  acknowledge  it,  and  ax3- 
knowledge  it  without  shame.  The  day  for  hero-worship  has 
passed  away,  and  that  of  heroic  action  has  dawned  for  both  of 
us.  Forgive  me  if  I  have  usurped  the  place  of  your  demi-god  ; 
and,  in  his  stead,  accept  yoiu*  friend  and  companion-in-arms. 
Think  of  the  pledge  we  made  before  Buda,  and  refuse  me  not 
the  advantage  of  your  support.  Without  you,  I  cannot  cap- 
ture Belgrade ;  with  you,  I  feel  that  I  am  inviucible.  Will 
you  not  sustain  me  ? " 

"  I  will,  dear  Max,  and,  sorely  though  you  have  grieved 
me,  I  bid  you  welcome." 


CHAPTEE  rV. 

THE  FALL  OF  BELGRADE. 

Two  months  had  passed  away  since  Max  Emmanuel  as- 
sumed command  of  the  imperial  army.  During  this  time  the 
besiegers  had  dug  trenches  and  thrown  up  embankments  ;  had 
demolished  fortifications,  and  thrown  bridges  across  the  Save, 
with  a  view  to  attacking  the  Turks  both  in  front  and  rear. 
The  latter  had  been  obliged  to  look  on  while  all  this  had  been 
progressing,  impotent,  in  spite  of  their  valor,  to  stop  proceed- 
ings. Of  course  they  had  thrown  bombs  and  sprung  mines 
under  the  feet  of  their  enemies,  but  nothing  dismayed  the  Aus- 
trians,  and  finally  they  were  prepared  to  assault  the  city. 

The  duke  had  twice  called  upon  Achmed  Pacha  to  sur- 
render. The  first  summons,  sent  by  a  Turkish  prisoner,  was 
laconically  answered  by  the  gibbeting  of  the  unfortunate  mes* 


THE  FALL  OF  BELGRADE.  357 

senger  within  sight  of  the  Austrian  camp.  Jo  the  second, 
Achmed  Pasha  replied  by  a  thousand  greetings  to  the  brave 
Duke  of  Lorraine  ;  adding  that  the  siege  would  terminate  as 
it  pleased  God. 

"  And  we  are  here  to  carry  out  His  will,"  observed  the 
duke,  laughing.  "The  miners  must  cease  their  work  neither 
day  nor  night ;  they  may  be  relieved,  but  must  not  stop.  Tell 
them  that  if  they  work  me  a  passage  to  the  fortress  by  the  16th 
of  September,  I  will  give  to  each  one  of  them  from  this  day 
forward  a  gratuity  of  two  ducats  a  day." 

On  the  15th  of  September  the  Turkish  commander  was  a 
third  time  summoned  to  surrender.  This  last  summons  was 
treated  with  contemptuous  silence.  It  had  been  delivered  to 
Achmed  Pacha,  while,  accompanied  by  his  Janizaries,  he  was 
on  his  way  to  the  mosque.  When  he  had  finished  its  perusal, 
he  addressed  two  of  his  officers  that  were  walking  on  either 
side  of  him. 

"  What  answer  would  you  advise  me  to  make  to  the  Chris- 
tian commander-in-chief  ? "  asked  he  of  the  first.  "  In  the  name 
of  Allah  and  the  Prophet,  I  call  upon  you  to  speak  according 
to  your  convictions." 

"  The  two  Janizaries  exchanged  glances  of  uneasiness  ;  but 
Achmed  Pacha's  stem,  handsome  face  was  inscrutable  in  its 
composure. 

"We  are  sorely  pressed,"  replied  the  officer,  mustering 
courage  to  speak.  "  Unless  Allah  work  a  miracle  in  our  favor, 
we  must  succumb  ;  it  seems  to  me,  therefore,  that  a  useless  de- 
fence will  but  exasperate  the  enemy." 

Achmed  Pacha  turned  to  the  other.  "  And  you  ? "  said  he, 
mildly. 

**  Most  illustrious  leader  of  the  armies  of  the  faithful,"  said 
the  second  officer,  quite  reassured  as  to  consequences,  "  if  you 
Insist  upon  hearing  the  candid  opinion  of  the  least  of  your 
servants,  I  must  venture  to  say  that  our  garrison  is  exhausted 
and  spiritless.  Allah  has  forsaken  us,  and  it  were  better  to 
«top  further  effusion  of  blood  by  an  honorable  surrender." 

Achmed's  eyes  now  darted  fire,  and  the  angry  blood 
rushed  to  his  pale  brow.  He  signed  to  a  third  officer  to  ad- 
vance. 


358  PRINCE   EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

"  You  have  heard  these  traitors,"  said  he  in  a  loud,  distinct 
voice.  "  Oif  with  their  cowardly  heads,  and  bear  them  through 
the  city  on  pikes,  while  a  herald  shall  come  after  you,  crying 
out  to  all  who  choose  to  profit  by  the  warning,  '  Such  is  the 
fate  of  the  traitors  that  counsel  submission  to  the  Christian  ! " 

The  oflBicers  were  thrown  to  the  ground,  and,  in  a  few  mo- 
ments, their  headless  trunks  lay  stretched  on  the  earth,  while 
their  heads  wei*e  borne  aloft  through  the  streets  of  Belgrade. 

"  Justice  is  satisfied,"  said  Achmed  Pacha,  solemnly  ;  "  now 
let  us  betake  ourselves  to  prayer.  Let  us  thank  Allah,  who  has 
turned  away  the  perils  by  which  we  were  threatened,  and  is 
preparing  for  the  faithful  a  great  triumph  over  their  unbeliev- 
ing foe.  The  grand-vizier  is  at  hand  with  re-enforcements, 
and  ere  long  the  Christians  will  be  put  to  ignominious  flight." 

This  declaration  of  the  general  soon  made  its  way  to 
every  house  in  the  city,  and  caused  universal  joy.  The  sol- 
diers crowded  around  their  chief  and  swore  to  defend  Belgrade 
until  the  grand-vizier  arrived. 

"  And  the  Sultan  will  reward  you  all,"  said  Achmed.  "  The 
booty  will  be  left  to  the  soldiery,  and  the  commander  of  the 
faithful  will  pour  out  the  treasures  of  his  generosity  from  the 
horn  of  his  beneficence.  The  defenders  of  Belgrade  will  be 
the  nearest  to  his  throne  and  his  heart,  and  to  your  chil- 
dren shall  descend  the  honors  he  will  confer  !  Now  come 
and  let  us  praise  Allah  for  the  glory  you  are  about  to  win '  ! " 

And  with  this  flourish  of  promises,  Achmed  Pacha  entered 
the  mosque.  Once  there,  he  fell  upon  his  knees,  and  prayed 
after  the  following  fashion  : 

"  Allah,  forgive  me  the  lies  which  I  have  just  uttered  before 
the  gates  of  Thy  holy  temple.  Allah,  make  true  my  words  : 
send  hither,  I  implore  Thee,  the  help  I  have  ventured  to  prom- 
ise to  my  unhappy  garrison  ;  for  the  two  unfortunates  whom 
I  have  just  executed  were  the  speakers  of  truth  ;  if  a  miracle 
is  not  vouchsafed  to  us,  we  are  lost." 

In  the  Christian  camp  Max  Emmanuel  was  making  ready 
to  storm  the  city  ;  and  his  troops,  with  beating  hearts,  were 
eagerly  awaiting  the  signal  to  begin  the  assault. 

"  You  are  really  going  to  commence  your  attack  ? "  asked 
the  Duke  of  Mantua  of  the  elector. 


THE  FALL  OF  BELGRADE.  359 

"  Not  only  to  commence,  but  to  finish  it,"  was  the  reply. 
"Before  the  sun  sets,  Belgrade  must  be  ours." 

"  Very  fine  and  sententious,"  replied  the  duke,  with  a  shrug, 
"but,  unfortunately,  impracticable." 

"  Well — nobody  can  deny  that  your  highness  is  a.  far-seeing 
warrior,"  said  Max,  laughing,  and  remembering  Mohacz.* 
*'  You  have  an  eagle-glance  for  a  field  of  battle,  and  I  propose 
to  renew  for  you  to-day  the  spectacle  which  last  year  you  en- 
joyed looking  on,  while  the  rest  of  us  were  fighting." 

"  Think  you  that  Belgrade  is  a  bee-hive,  and  that  the  Turks 
are  to  be  smoked  therefrom,  like  a  swarm  of  bees  ? " 

"  I  think  that  Belgrade  is  peopled  by  Turks,  not  bees  ;  and 
yet  I  shall  smoke  them  out  of  it  this  very  day.  Will  you  bet 
me  five  thousand  ducats  that  I  do  not  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  take  the  bet ;  and  although  five  thousand  ducats  is 
a  considerable  sum,  I  sincerely  hope  I  may  lose  it.  I  shall 
make  haste  to  return  to  my  villa,  whence  I  can  look  on  the 
assault,  while  I  pray  for  the  success  of  your  arms." 

"  We  shall  have  unspeakable  comfort  in  the  thought,"  cried 
the  elector,  galloping  off  to  join  his  staff. 

"  A  pious  Moses  that,"  said  he  to  Prince  Eugene.  "  I  am 
really  glad  that  he  has  again  taken  his  leave.  I  lose  all  my 
pride  of  manhood  when  I  look  upon  such  a  poltroon,  and  think 
that  we  are  of  the  same  species." 

"  He  is  a  natural  curiosity,"  said  Eugene,  "  a  mere  exception 
to  his  rac«.  I  rather  enjoy  the  contemplation  of  such  a  spo- 
radic case  of  cowardice." 

The  attack  was  to  begin  at  five  points  simultaneously. 

*  The  Duke  of  Mantoa  had  promised  to  come  to  the  assistance  of  the  em- 
peror. In  1687  he  visited  the  imperial  camp,  where  he  was  received  with 
every  mark  of  consideration.  On  the  morning  of  the  battle  of  Mohacz,  as  the 
troopt  were  about  to  make  the  attack,  he  came  up  to  General  Caprara,  and  in 
the  ooolett  manner  asked  fh>m  what  point  he  could  best  observe  the  fight. 
The  general  replied,  "■  Tour  highness  must  join  the  staff  of  the  commander-in- 
ohief  if  you  wish  to  look  on  without  being  mixed  up  in  the  general  engage- 
ment"—^ But  the  staff  are  in  constant  danger,  as  well  as  the  rest,"  was  his 
answer,  "and  I  might  be  struck  by  a  ball  or  a  bomb-shell."— "Oh!"  cried 
Cqpnura, "  you  wish  to  look  on  without  endangering  your  life !  Then  go  up 
to  the  top  of  yonder  mountain."  The  duke  went,  and  remidned  there  untU 
the  battle  was  ended. 
24 


360  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

When  tlie  fifth  courier  had  reported  his  division  to  be  in 
readiness,  the  elector,  giving  orders  to  his  staff  which  dis- 
persed them  for  a  while,  turned  to  Eugene  and  began  in  a 
low  voice : 

"  Eugene,  I  feel  like  a  lover  who  has  just  become  a  husband. 
My  heart  beats  with  anticipation  of  bliss,  and  is  all  aflame  with 
desire." 

"I  should  think  you  had  clasped  Bellona  to  your  heart 
so  often,  that  you  would  have  learned  to  accept  her  fa- 
vors without  excitement  or  anxiety,"  returned  Eugene,  play- 
fully. 

Max  glanced  at  the  calm  and  self-possessed  prince,  and  re- 
plied :  "  You  shall  teach  me  self-control,  dear  Eugene,  for  you 
have  wonderful  mastery  over  your  emotions.  Did  I  not  know 
what  a  warm  heart  is  throbbing  under  that  composed  demean- 
or, I  should  imagine  Prince  Eugene  to  be  a  mere  compound  of 
wisdom  and  self-possession  ;  and  yet  I  know  that,  at  this  very 
moment,  that  heart  is  burning  with  love  for  one  who,  in  the 
hour  of  battle,  is  dearer  to  him  than  ever.  Eugene,  this  is  a 
moment  of  solemnity  enough  for  me  to  ask  you  whether  Laura 
lives  ? " 

"  I  do  not  know,"  murmured  he,  nervously  grasping  his 
reins,  and  becoming  very  pale.  "  I  have  no  news,  and  yet,  if 
she  were  dead,  my  heart  would  tell  me  so  ;  I  believe,  then 
that  she  is  alive,  and,  should  I  fall  to-day,  there  hangs  a  medal 
lion  around  my  neck  (her  dear  portrait),  which  must  be  sent 
to  her.  Say  that  I  died  loving  her  beyond  all  power  of  speech 
to  convey  ;  that  for  her  love,  I  bless  and  thank  her,  trusting 
that  she  will  forgive  me  for  having  been  the  cause  of  all  her 
misfortunes.  I  am  grateful  to  you,  Max,  for  having  spoken  of 
her  to  me.     If  I  die,  this  is  my  last  will." 

"Enviable  saint,  that  has  but  one  legacy  and  one  love  !  I 
shall  take  very  good  care  not  to  entertain  you  with  the  his- 
tory, in  many  volumes,  of  all  my  various  loves.  But  the  last  of 
them  you  can  greet  for  me,  should  I  fall  to-day  ;  and  you  will 
do  it  cordially,  for  she  is  Laura's  sister-in-law.  Tell  my  beau- 
tiful Lucretia  that  I  have  been  happy  in  her  love  ;  and,  al- 
though I  would  not  have  her  mourn  for  me,  I  hope  she  will 
sometimes  waft  me  a  thought  or  a  gentle  sigh.    And  now — to 


THE  FALL  OF  BELGRADE.  861 

arms,  and  to  victory  I  You  promise  to  fight  at  my  side,  do  you 
not?" 

*'  Yes,  Max — nothing  but  death  shall  part  us,  until  Belgrade 
is  ours." 

"  Give  me  your  left  hand,  while,  with  the  right,  I  give  the 
signal  for  the  attack." 

So  saying,  the  elector  held  aloft  a  silken  flag,  which  fluttered 
for  a  moment,  and  then  boldly  caught  the  breeze. — There  was 
a  short  silence  ;  then  every  Christian  gun  proclaimed  defiance 
to  the  T^irk. 

Early  in  the  action,  General  Scarffenberg  was  mortally 
wound^  ;  but  he  had  carried  his  point  of  attack,  and  with  his 
dying  eyes  he  saw  the  Austrians  mount  the  breach,  and  drive 
away  the  enemy  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet.  The  bastion  once 
reached,  the  men,  almost  reeling  with  fatigue,  paused  for  a 
moment  to  regain  breath.  The  enemy  taking  advantage  of 
the  halt,  returned  and  poured  out  such  numbers  of  fresh  as- 
sailants that  the  Christians  from  sheer  exhaustion  began  to 
falter,  and  were  about  to  be  driven  back,  when  Prince  Eugene, 
seeing  their  danger,  sprang  forward  to  General  Sereni,  and 
called  for  re-enforcements. 

Placing  himself  at  their  head^  the  bastion  was  recaptured, 
and  the  Austrians  rushed  eagerly  forward  to  follow  up  their 
success. 

But  just  beyond  the  breach  lay  a  deep,  wide  trench,  behind 
which  the  enemy  had  fortified  themselves,  and  were  now  pour- 
ing out  a  murderous  fire. 

"  The  line  of  these  breastworks  must  be  broken,"  said  the 
elector. 

But  the  question  was— how  were  they  to  be  broken  ?  Not 
a  path  was  to  be  seen  conducting  thither  ;  and  the  imperial- 
ists, hurried  forward  by  the  eager  troops  behind,  who  were  un- 
aware of  the  impediment  in  front,  seemed  to  have  no  altema- 
tiye  but  that  of  inevitable  death  or  retreat. 

Retreat  1  odious  word,  which  the  officers  could  not  bring 
their  lips  to  pronounce.  And  yet  there  was  no  possibility  of 
advancing  ;  and  to  remain  stationary  was  to  offer  themselves 
for  massacre.  The  soldiers  were  so  closely  packed  together 
that  they  could  make  no  use  of  their  weapons,  while  the  Turks 


362  PRINCE   EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

were  shooting  them  down  like  so  many  birds  in  a  battue.  The 
elector  stood  by  the  side  of  the  breach,  and  called  a  hasty 
council  of  his  oflBcers. 

"  We  have  done  enough  for  to-day,"  said  General  Sereni. 
"  We  can  intrench  ourselves  behind  the  breach,  and  renew  the 
attack  to-morrow." 

"  The  men  are  exhausted,"  urged  another.  "  We  will  surely 
capture  the  fortress  to-morrow." 

The  elector  had  listened  in  perfect  silence  to  the  various 
changes  rung  on  the  same  idea  ;  but  he  was  not  altogether 
convinced.  He  now  turned  to  Eugene,  who  spoke  not  a  word, 
but  gazed  sharply  from  the  trench  to  the  serried  ranks  of  Turks 
on  the  opposite  side.  He  raised  his  eyes  with  a  mournful, 
questioning  look,  to  the  face  of  the  perplexed  commander. 
Their  glances  met,  and  a  smile  of  perfect  understanding  passed 
between  them. 

The  elector  hurried  forward  to  the  brink  of  the  trench  ; 
behind  him  came  Eugene.  Both  drew  their  swords,  and, 
brandishing  them  above  their  heads,  Max  Emmanuel  called 
out  in  clear,  distinct,  and  ringing  tones  : 

"  Comrades,  look,  and  follow  me  ! " 

Then  the  two  heroes  sprang  into  the  trench,  and  the  troops 
rushed  forward  to  follow  them.  Many  dislocated  their  limbs, 
as  they  leaped  down  ;  but  such  as  escaped  without  broken 
bones  went  onward,  fighting  like  tigers. 

Suddenly  an  arrow  pierced  the  cheek  of  the  elector,  and  his 
face  was  covered  with  blood. 

"  You  are  wounded,  dear  Max  ! "  cried  Eugene,  affrighted. 

The  elector  laughed,  and,  drawing  out  the  arrow,  replied, 
"  Not  at  all  ;  this  is  Bellona's  first  kiss." 

And,  like  a  furious  lion,  he  dashed  ahead,  and  avenged  the 
kiss  by  many  a  stout  blow  of  his  sword. 

The  Janizaries  were  driven  from  their  breastworks,  but,  ere 
they  went,  one  of  them,  astonished  at  the  prowess  of  Eugene, 
whom  he  took  to  be  a  lad,  was  determined  to  make  short  work 
of  the  insolent  boy  that  was  slaying  right  and  left  like  another 
David. 

He  raised  his  brawny  arm,  and  smiled  contemptuously 
upon  so  puny  an  adversary.     But  when  he  would  have  dealt 


THE  FALL  OF  BELGRADE.  363 

his  blow,  it  was  parried  by  a  thrust  of  such  power  that  he 
reeled  and  almost  lost  his  balance.  In  his  fury  he  raised  his 
cimeter  and  cleft  the  helmet  of  the  prince  in  twain. 

For  a  moment  Eugene  w;as  dizzy,  though  uninjured  ;  but, 
quickly  recovering  his  senses,  he  made  a  lunge  at  the  Janizary 
and  ran  him  through  the  body.  Without  waiting  to  see  him 
die,  tlie  prince  drew  out  his  sabre  and  darted  onwaini.  The 
imperialists  shouted  and  cheered  him  as  he  went,  but  the 
Turks,  too,  had  witnessed  the  deed,  and  more  than  one  musket 
was  vengefully  aimed  at  the  slayer  of  the  Paynim  Goliath. 
One — one,  alas  I  has  reached  the  mark.  It  has  pierced  his 
foot,  and  he  is  no  longer  in  a  condition  to  make  another  step. 
Heaven  be  praised  that  the  Turks  have  taken  flight,  and  that 
the  Christians  have  possessed  themselves  of  the  trench  1  Eu- 
gene has  the  comfort  of  knowing  that  he  will  not  be  a  captive, 
and  this  assurance  gives  him  strength  to  drag  himself  within 
speaking  distance  of  a  group  of  soldiers. 

"  Bear  me  away,  if  you  please,"  said  he  ;  "I  cannot  walk." 

Two  of  them  hastened  to  his  relief,  and  bore  him  tenderly 
away  to  the  spot  where  a  field-surgeon  was  attending  to  the 
wounded. 

The  town  and  citadel  have  fallen  ;  nothing  now  remains 
to  the  Turks  but  the  castle,  from  the  windows  of  which  a  white 
flag  is  proclaiming  their  defeat  and  surrender.  But  the  Chris- 
tians do  not  see  it ;  and  the  elector,  followed  by  his  victorious 
troops,  rushes,  sword  in  hand,  to  the  prison  wherein  the  Chris- 
tian prisoners  are  confined.  The  dungeons  were  crowded  with 
fugitive  Turks,  who  had  betaken  themselves  thither  as  the 
safest  place  to  be  found.  They  cried  for  mercy,  and  it  was 
granted  them.  Their  lives  were  spared,  but  they  were  prison- 
ers. Achmed  Pacha  was  among  them.  He  came  forward  and 
bent  the  knee  before  his  conqueror. 

** Allah  has  willed  it,"  said  he,  "and  may  his  name  be 
(Hraiaed  1  G^eral,  thou  hast  prevailed,  and  I  am  thy  prisoner. 
I  ask  but  one  favor  of  thee.  Give  rae  no  Greek  or  Rascian  for 
my  master  ;  let  me  serve  a  German." 

The  elector  smilingly  raised  him,  and  explained  that  Chris- 
tians did  not  enslave  their  prisoners  of  war.  "You  have  de- 
fended yourself  heroically,"  added  be,  "  and  we  honor  a  brave 


364  PRINCE   EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

enemy.  The  Emperor  of  Germany  alone  is  the  arbiter  of 
your  fate." 

"  Allali  will  decide  what  that  fate  is  to  be,"  was  the  pious 
response  of  the  Mussulman, 

The  Elector  of  Bavaria  has  won  his  wager  ;  but  what  cares 
a  victorious  hero  for  ducats  or  dastards  like  the  Diike  of 
Mantua  ? 

"  Where  is  Eugene  ? "  was  his  first  inquiry.  And,  not  see- 
ing him  among  his  followers,  he  darted  out  of  the  castle  in 
search  of  his  friend. 

The  question  passed  from  man  to  man,  until  one  was  found 
at  last  to  answer  it.  The  prince  was  in  the  hands  of  the  im- 
perial surgeons,  who  were  vainly  endeavoring  to  extract  the 
ball. 

The  elector  dragged  one  of  them  aside.  "  Is  he  dangerously 
wounded  ? "  asked  he,  anxiously. 

"  He  may  not  die  of  the  wound,"  was  the  surgeon's  reply  ; 
"but  it  will  be  tedious  and  very  painful." 

"  He  will  live  ! "  cried  Max,  wiping  away  a  tear,  and  hasten- 
ing to  the  litter  whereon  Eugene  was  lying. 

He  bent  over  him,  and  gently  touched  his  forehead. 

Eugene  raised  his  large,  melancholy  eyes,  and  looking 
upon  the  beaming  face  that  encountered  his,  he  pointed  to  the 
wound,  around  which  the  blood  had  already  coagulated,  and 
said  : 

"  Happy  Max,  whom  Bellona  has  kissed  I  Me  she  has  trod- 
den under  foot." 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  MARCHIONESS. 

"  Strozzi,  take  my  advice,  and  give  up  this  miserable  life. 
Of  all  earthly  bores,  solitude  is  the  greatest." 

'*  No,  Barbesieur,  in  solitude  I  find  my  only  comfort,"  re- 
turned Strozzi,  with  a  weary  sigh.  "  Here,  at  least,  Laura  is 
indubitably  mine  ;  here  she  is  Marchioness  de  Strozzi." 

"  She  is  Marchioness  de  Strozzi  throughout  the  entire  world, 


THE   MARCHIONESS.  365 

as  I  am  ready  to  prove,  who  saw  your  hands  joined  together, 
and  heard  your  reciprocrated  vows  in  Paris." 

'*  Yes,  yes  ;  but  you  know  that  she  denies  the  marriage,  and 
persists  that  she  is  the  wife  of  Eugene  of  Savoy." 

"  She  is  a  sentimental  fool,"  cried  Barbesieur,  with  a  coarse 
laugh.  ''  And  devil  take  me  but  I  would  cure  her  of  her  folly 
were  she  my  wife  !  If  she  will  not  love  you,  man,  why  do  you 
not  force  her  to  fear  you  ? " 

'*  Fear  me  !  Her  soul  knows  not  fear.  Have  I  not  tried  to 
intimidate  her  over  and  over  again  ?  and  every  threat  I  hurl, 
she  thrusts  back  into  my  teeth,  as  though  her  spirit  were  de- 
fended from  harm  by  some  invisible,  enchanted  armor." 

"  And  you  love  her !  You,  the  master  and  jailer,  creep 
about,  with  sallow  cheek  and  sunken  eye,  while  your  prisoner 
is  the  very  impersonation  of  hopeful  happiness.  At  every  un- 
expected step  she  listens  with  a  smile  ;  if  a  cloud  stray  across 
the  window,  she  mistakes  it  for  the  shadow  of  deliverance  I 
Verily,  my  excellent  father,  who  sent  me  hither  to  find  out 
whether  you  were  slowly  killing  his  daughter  by  your  cruelty, 
will  scarcely  believe  me  when  I  tell  him  what  a  beneficial 
effect  has  been  produced  upon  her  by  your  wholesome  re- 
straint. You  must  know  that,  although  not  remarkable  for 
his  social  virtues.  Monsieur  Louvois  has  intervals  of  puling 
sensibility,  at  which  times  he  reproaches  himself  with  the  part 
he  took  in  the  comedy  of  your  marriage,  and,  since  Prince 
Eugene  has  grown  famous,  almost  repents  that  he  did  not  ac- 
cept that  fascinating  individual  for  his  son-in-law.  He  is  be- 
ginning to  be  absolutely  afraid  of  the  little  ex-abbe." 

"And  I  too  fear  him,"  said  Strozzi,  gnashing  his  teeth. 
**  He  bears  a  charmed  life,  or  he  would  not  see  the  light  of 
heaven  to-day.  I  thought  I  had  him  beyond  all  power  of  res- 
cue, once  in  Venice.  So  sure  was  I  that  he  must  die,  that  I 
hastened  to  Laura  and  announced  his  demise.  That  night  I 
took  her  away,  hoping  by  change  of  scene  to  induce  forgetful- 
ness,  where  hope,  of  course,  was  extinct.  One  day,  in  Milan, 
a  group  of  men  were  talking  of  some  recent  victory  of  the 
imperialists,  and  to  my  amazement  I  heard  the  name  of  the 
Prince  of  Savoy  among  those  who  had  most  distinguished 
themselves." 


366  PRINCE   EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

"  Was  Laura  with  you  ? "  asked  Barbesieur. 

"  Alas,  she  was  !  And  her  beautiful  face  was  transfigured 
with  joy.  I  felt  as  if  I  could  have  swooned  with  jealousy.  I 
hurried  her  home,  and  in  half  an  hour  she  was  on  the  road  to  ,' 
this  castle.  Here  I  knew  that  no  news  could  ever  reach  her  ^ 
of  the  world  or  its  heroes  ;  here  I  could  leave  her,  and  fear 
not  to  absent  myself,  for  this  is  a  lonely  forest,  no  strangers 
ever  wander  hither,  and  I  have  good,  watchful  dragons  to 
guard  my  treasure.  I  posted  then,  with  all  speed,  to  Venice, 
entered  the  palace  at  night,  and  made  my  way  to  the  secret 
prison  of  which  you  have  heard,  to  see  for  myself  if  it  could 
possibly  be  true  that  Eugene  of  Savoy  was  living." 

"  Did  you  find  any  one  ? " 

"  Of  course,  some  man  was  bound  to  be  there  :  else  he  could 
not  have  escaped.  Conceive  my  fury  when  I  recognized  my 
own  hired  bravo,  Antonio,  who  must  have  betrayed  me,  and 
remained  instead  of  the  prince.  I  opened  a  niche  in  the  wall, 
kicked  his  rotten  carcass  into  the  lagoon,  and,  more  wretched 
than  ever,  returned  to  this  hell  wherein  I  languish,  while 
paradise  is  within  sight." 

"  How  long  do  you  intend  to  make  a  voluntary  Tantalus  of 
yourself." 

"  I  shall  stay  until  she  forgets  Prince  Eugene,  and  loves 
me." 

"  I  wish  you  joy  ;  meanwhile  I  shall  await  your  bulletins 
at  my  delightful  residence — your  generous  gift.  I  must  re- 
main until  the  arrival  of  my  father's  couriers  ;  and,  having 
seen  them  off  with  the  glad  tidings  of  my  fair  sister's  flourish- 
ing condition,  I  will  be  off  for  Bonaletta.  I  wonder  which  of 
us  two  she  hates  the  more  ?  Come — we  may  as  well  go  at  once 
to  her  rooms,  that  my  visit  may  be  over. " 

So  saying,  Barbesieur  put  his  arm  within  that  of  the  mar- 
quis, but  the  latter,  drawing  back,  pointed  to  the  clock  on 
the  mantel. 

"  It  is  too  early  :  she  never  permits  me  to  come  before 
eleven." 

"  And  you — her  husband,  suffer  such  impertinent  dictation 
from  your  vassal — your  wife  ! " 

"  I  dare  not  thwart  her  by  any  intrusion  of  myself  except 


THE   MATICHIONESS.  367 

at  her  will.  If  I  were  to  lay  my  hand  on  her,  she  would  kill 
herself,  like  another  Lucretia,  to  save  her  honor.  And  if  I 
contradict  her  by  coming  befoi'e  my  time,  she  will  start  and 
grow  pale,  perhaps  faint,  and  be  sick  ;  and  oh,  Barbesieur  !  the 
idea  of  losing  her,  makes  me  frantic." 

"  As  you  please,"  returned  Barbesieur,  with  a  shrug  and  a 
loud  laugh.  "  But  as  I  am  not  pining  for  a  sight  of  her  beauty, 
I  shall  go  rabbit-hunting,  while  you  stay  at  home  and  look 
wistfully  at  what  you  dare  not  take." 

So  saying,  Barbesieur  shouldered  his  gun,  whistled  to  his 
dogs,  and  went  off  to  the  chase  ;  while  Strozzi,  his  eyes  on  the 
dial  of  the  clock,  awaited  the  hour  for  visiting  his  inapproach- 
able wife. 

The  marchioness  was  in  an  apartment  situated  in  the  centre 
of  the  wing  which  her  affectionate  husband  had  fitted  up  for 
her  incarceration.  No  one  that  entered  this  magnificent  suite 
would  ever  have  imagined  that  it  was  a  prison.  The  walls 
were  covered  with  hangings  of  satin  and  gold  ;  the  floors  were 
hidden  by  Turkey  carpets  as  soft  as  turf  ;  the  windows  were 
festooned  with  curtains  of  velvet  and  lace  ;  and  their  recesses 
filled  with  tall  Venetian  mirrors.  Paintings  of  value  adorned 
the  walls,  and  frescoes  ornamented  the  ceilings  ;  while  every 
object  of  vertu  that  was  known  to  the  age,  lay  in  elegant  pro- 
fusion about  this  luxurious  abode. 

And  yet  it  was  veritably  a  prison,  wherein  the  Marchioness 
de  Strozzi  was  confined  "  because  of  her  hopeless  lunacy,"  and 
the  windows  thereof  were  guarded  by  a  strong  trellis-work 
of  iron,  which  might  clearly  be  seen  through  their  panes, 
while  without,  in  an  anteroom,  two  she-dragons  kept  watch 
over  the  doors  which  led  from  the  prison  to  the  world  with- 
out 

The  parlor  of  Laura's  habitation  opened  into  a  boudoir 
which  led  to  the  bedroom.  This  apartment  was  as  sumptu- 
ously fitted  up  as  the  others,  but  its  windows  were  similarly 
guarded.  Opposite,  and  beyond  the  parlor,  was  a  small  room 
occupied  by  the  duennas,  so  that  the  prisoner  could  not 
leave  her  apartments  without  encountering  one  or  both  of 
them. 

Tonietta,  the  second  lady's  maid,  was  busy  with  her  needle 


368  PRINCE   EUGENE  AND   HIS   TIMES. 

when  the  marquis  entered,  and  began  his  usual  routine  of  jjj* 
quiries. 

"  How  is  the  marchioness  to-day  ?  Is  she  quiet  and  well- 
disposed  ?  Has  she  breakfasted  ?  Does  her  health  seem  good  ?  '* 
and  so  on. 

The  woman's  lip  curled,  but  she  controlled  herself  and 
made  reply.  "  Her  ladyship  is  as  usual.  She  has  played  on 
the  harp,  sung,  and  taken  her  chocolate.  But  she  was  unu- 
sually cheerful  while  we  were  occupied  with  her  toilet,  and  I 
do  not  like  this  humor." 

*'  Why,  why  ?"  asked  Strozzi. 

"  Because  it  is  a  very  sudden  change — too  sudden  to  portend 
good.  She  has  always  been  reserved,  and  showed  no  disposi- 
tion to  be  friendly.  All  of  a  sudden,  she  becomes  talkative 
and  gay." 

''  So  much  the  better.  That  proves  that  she  is  becoming  ac- 
customed to  her  lot." 

"  It  might  prove  just  the  contrary,"  returned  the  duenna^ 
with  a  crafty  glance  at  her  master.  ''  It  might  be  intended  t<> 
blind  us,  or  it  might  prove  that  she  has  hopes  of  escaping." 

"  Great  God  ! "  shrieked  Strozzi,  "  you  terrify  me.  What 
hope  can  she  possibly  indulge  of  escape  ? " 

"I  do  not  know,  but  I  like  not  her  cheerfulness,  neverthe- 
less. However,  be  under  no  apprehension,  my  lord  ;  we  keep 
strict  watch,  and  there  is  no  mode  of  egress  save  through  one 
of  these  two  doors.  I  am  not  afraid  during  the  day — but  at 
night !  Who  knows  ?  Your  lordship  was  wrong  to  allow  her 
to  sleep  in  a  room  without  us,  and  to  permit  her  to  fasten  her 
door  against  us." 

"  She  would  have  it  so,"  sighed  Strozzi  ;  "  but  what  does  it 
signify  ?    Had  she  wings,  she  could  not  fly  out  of  her  prison.'* 

And,  with  these  words,  he  passed  into  the  parlor. 

Laura  sat  by  a  window  before  her  easel,  and  was  so  ab- 
sorbed with  her  work  that  she  was,  or  affected  to  be,  uncon- 
scious of  her  husband's  entrance.  Not  daring  to  advance,  he 
stood  in  the  doorway,  devouring  her  with  his  eyes,  almost  mad 
with  desire  to  clasp  her  to  his  heart.  She,  on  her  side,  sat 
painting,  and  humming  a  song,  her  blue-satin  dress  defining 
the  graceful  contour  of  her  bust  and  slender  waist,  then  swell- 


THE  MARCHIONESS.  369 

ing  out  beneath  into  rich  folds  that  shimmered  like  silver  un- 
der the  sunbeams  that  fell  upon  them  from  the  window  above. 
The  long  lace  sleeves  drooped  in  gossamer  waves  over  the 
dress,  leaving  bare  her  round,  fair  arms,  jBrm  and  white  as 
those  of  the  Venus  of  Milo.  Her  hair  was  gathered  into  a 
Grecian  knot  behind,  and  her  delicate  profile,  illumined  by  the 
morning  sun,  was  so  marvellous  in  its  beauty,  that  Strozzi's 
eyes  filled  with  tears  as  he  gazed,  and  his  sallow,  sunken  cheeks 
glowed  with  mingled  love  and  hate. 

He  made  a  few  steps  forward,  and  encountered  the  cold 
glance  of  her  splendid  eyes,  and  saw  the  slight  bend  of  hei 
haughty  head,  as  she  became  aware  of  his  presence. 

''  What  brings  you  hither,  sir  ? "  said  she.  "  But  I  need  not 
ask.  You  have  come  to  satisfy  yourself  by  ocular  demonstra^ 
tion  that  your  prisoner  has  not  flown  up  the  chimney.  You 
need  not  trouble  yourself  to  remain — I  am  here." 

"  Prisoner,  say  you,  cruel  Laura  I  'Tis  I  that  am  a  prisoner  ; 
prisoned  by  your  coldness,  and  yet  I  love  you— I  love  you  to 
madness  I" 

"  You  are  quite  right  thus  to  define  your  love ;  and  per- 
chance it  may  lead  you  to  that  lunacy  which  is  your  lying 
pretext  for  incarcerating  me  alive  in  this  lonely  castle." 

"  Oh,  I  fear  it,  I  fear  it ! "  cried  he,  despairingly,  "  for  day 
by  day  my  reason  fails  me.    Have  mercy,  have  mercy  I " 

"  Mercy  I  You  who  would  have  taken  the  life  of  the  man  I 
love.  You  are  an  assassin,  whose  just  portion  would  be  the 
scaffold.  But  enough— why  renew  each  day  the  mournful  duo 
of  your  love  and  my  contempt  ?    Let  me  be  silent  and  wait." 

"  Wait  1  Oh,  then,  there  is  hope  for  me,  and  you  bid  me 
not  despair ! " 

"  You  ! — I  spoke  of  myself  ;  for,  as  there  is  a  just  God  above 
us,  I  believe  that  He  will  open  the  doors  of  my  prison,  and 
send  His  angel  to  deliver  me." 

"Then  you  are  entirely  without  sympathy." 

"  Entirely— for  the  man  that  obtained  possession  of  my  per- 
son by  a  fraud,  and  who,  for  five  long,  bitter  years,  has  laden 
me  with  the  chains  of  this  lie  which  he  calls  our  marriage." 

"I  know  that  you  have  suffered,  and  I  have  wept  for  your 
fufferings,  while  I  have  been  impotent  to  lessen  them.    Speak 


370  PRINCE  EUGENE   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

but  the  word — say  that  you  are  that  which,  by  the  laws  of  God 
and  man,  you  have  been  for  these  five  long  years,  and  I  open 
your  doors  and  restore  you  to  freedom.  I  ask  you  not  to  love 
me  ;  but  I  implore  you  to  accept  my  love,  and  acknowledge 
yourself  to  be  my  wife  ;  for  well  I  know  that,  the  acknowl- 
edgment once  made,  you  are  too  honorable,  too  virtuous,  to 
sully  the  name  you  are  willing  to  bear.  Oh,  Laura,  my  peer- 
less Laura  I  I  will  make  amends  for  all  that  I  have  inflicted 
upon  you  through  the  madness  of  my  love.  I  have  wealth 
unbounded — a  noble  name,  high  station  :  all  shall  be  yours. 
See — I  am  at  your  feet.  Call  me  your  husband,  and  henceforth 
I  live  to  be  your  willing  slave  ! " 

"  Never  ! "  exclaimed  she,  starting  from  her  seat,  and  reced- 
ing in  horror  from  his  touch.  "  My  body  you  hold  in  bondage, 
but  my  spirit  is  free  ;  and  it  is  away  from  this  gloomy  prison, 
far  away,  mingling  with  that  of  my  spouse  before  Heaven,  my 
Eugene,  my  lord  and  husband." 

"  Silence  !  "  shrieked  Strozzi,  starting  to  his  feet.  "  Silence  ! 
or  you  will  drive  me  mad  !  And  be  assured  that  as  long  as 
you  defy  me,  just  so  long  will  I  hold  you  in  bondage." 

''  You  may  not  live  forever,  marquis,  for  the  Strozzis,  like 
other  men,  are  mortal ;  and  death,  perchance,  may  liberate  me, 
without  your  permission.  But  live  or  die,  as  you  choose  ;  I 
shall  find  means  to  rejoin  Eugene,  and  this  conviction  gives 
me  strength  to  endure  your  persecutions." 

"  The  Marchioness  Bonaletta  is  too  proud  and  chaste  to  be 
the  mistress  of  any  man,"  returned  Strozzi,  with  some  return 
of  courtesy. 

"  What  do  you  know  of  me  ? — I  counsel  you  not  to  build 
your  hopes  upon  any  estimate  you  may  have  formed  of  my 
notions  of  honor,  for  they  will  sorely  deceive  you,  if  you  do." 

Before  the  marquis  had  time  to  reply  to  these  defiant  words, 
the  door  opened,  and  Barbesieur,  holding  a  letter  in  his  hand, 
entered  the  room. 

Laura  frowned,  and  asked  Strozzi  by  what  right  her  room 
was  thus  invaded  by  a  stranger.  "I  do  not  desire  his  pres- 
ence," she  said.  "  Be  so  good  as  to  conduct  him  to  your  own 
apartments. " 

"  I  am  not  so  easily  conducted,  most  amiable  sister,"  re- 


THE  MARCHIONESS.  371 

turned  Barbesieur.  "  I  have  come  to  deliver  a  message  from 
your  father,  after  which  I  shall  take  my  leave  without  the  least 
regret.  We  are  about  to  go  to  war  with  Germany,  and  I  am 
about  t©  receive  a  general's  commission  in  the  French  army, 
so  that  I  have  no  time  to  lose  in  forcing  my  company  upon 
you." 

"  You  a  general's  commission  I  You  that  were  once  publicly 
disgraced  by — " 

*'  Your  marriage  has  long  ago  consoled  me  for  that  trifling 
mishap,"  interrupted  Barbesieur,  "  and  in  Paris  nobody  has 
ever  presumed  to  think  less  of  me  on  account  of  it.  I  think 
that,  in  every  way,  the  sufferer  therefrom  was  the  valiant  Eu- 
gene. And,  by-the-by,  that  leads  directly  to  the  business  that 
brought  me  hither.  That  Emperor  of  Austria  has  been  entirely 
too  lucky  in  war  to  please  the  King  of  France  ;  and  Max  Em- 
manuel, whom  we  had  expected  to  win  over  to  our  side,  is  the 
commander-in-chief  of  the  imperial  armies.  Max — your  quasi 
brother-in-law,  Strozzi ;  for  doubtless  you  are  aware  that  Lu- 
cretia,  the  left-handed  electress,  is  the  first  person  in  impor- 
tance at  the  Bavarian  court." 

"  May  she  be  damned  for  it ! "  muttered  Strozzi,  between 
his  teeth. 

"  Not  on  her  head  as  much  as  on  yours  rests  the  shame  of 
Lucretia's  act,"  said  Laura,  reproachfully. 

"  Ah  ! "  cried  Strozzi,  a  gleam  of  joy  darting  athwart  his 
meagre  face,  "  you  acknowledge,  then,  that  a  woman  is  dis- 
graced who  loves  a  man  whom  she  cannot  marry  I " 

*'A  truce  to  this  nonsense,  my  turtle-doves,"  interposed 
Barbesieur.  "I  bring  you  tidings  which  henceforth  render 
such  discussions  superfluous.  Listen  to  me,  both  of  you.  My 
father  has  sent  me  a  bit  of  news  which,  coming  direct  from  the 
Marquis  de  Villars— that  is,  from  Munich — is  positive  and  au- 
thentic.   Here  it  is." 

Laura  turned  away  her  head  that  they  might  not  see  her 
emotion,  while  Strozzi  besought  Barbesieur  not  to  be  so  long- 
winded. 

"  Well,  I  will  gratify  you  both.  Belgrade  is  taken  ;  Prince 
Eugene,  as  usual,  was  foremost  in  the  flght ;  but  unhappily  for 
some  people,  and  happily  for  others — " 


372  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIME& 

Here  Barbesieur  paused  to  enjoy  the  agony  of  his  sister's 
suspense.  Her  face  he  could  not  see,  but  her  trembling  figure 
gave  evidence  of  the  poignancy  of  her  anguish. 

''  WeU— "  said  Strozzi,  "  what  befell  him  ? " 

"  Something  not  at  all  uncommon — he  was  killed." 

Laura  turned  quickly  around  and  caught  the  diabolical 
glance  of  Barbesieur's  eyes.  "  I— I  do  not  believe  it,"  mur- 
mured she. 

"  Did  you  say  that  you  had  the  original  letter  from  the  Mar- 
quis ? "  asked  Strozzi,  eagerly. 

"  Yes,  here  it  is  ;  the  marchioness  can  see  for  herself." 

Laura  took  the  paper  and  glanced  hurriedly  over  its  con- 
tents. She  raised  her  eyes  to  heaven  in  thanksgiving.  "  He 
is  not  dead,"  said  she,  almost  inaudibly. 

"  Then  you  have  read  very  carelessly,"  returned  Barbesieur. 
"  The  letter  says,  '  so  dangerously  wounded  that  he  was  trans- 
ported in  a  dying  condition  to  Vienna.' " 

"  Had  he  been  dying,  he  would  not  have  been  transported 
to  Vienna,"  exclaimed  Laura,  with  a  smile  of  returning  hope. 
'  No,  no  I  Had  Eugene  been  dead,  the  air  I  breathe,  the  clouds 
that  I  watch  as  they  pass  by  yonder  grated  windows — ^my 
heart,  whose  beatings  are  responsive  to  his — every  thing  in 
nature  would  have  revealed  the  terrible  truth.  Eugene  lives — 
and  lives  to  fulfil  his  great  and  glorious  destiny.  Pardon  me, 
O  Lord,  that,  for  a  moment,  my  faith  was  weak  ! " 

She  looked  so  transcendently  lovely  as  she  spoke,  that 
Strozzi's  heart  sank  within  him.  He  turned  his  face  away,  and 
groaned. 

"  My  charming  sister  is  easily  consoled,  you  perceive,"  said 
Barbesieur  to  Strozzi.  "  And  now  that,  according  to  her  own 
interpretation  of  the  marriage  ceremony,  she  is  widowed,  I 
hope  to  hear  before  long  that  you  have  effectually  dried  up 
her  tears.     Come — let  us  leave  this  hopeful  widow  to  herself." 

"  I  come,"  replied  Strozzi,  ''  for  you  must  take  some  refresh- 
ment before  you  go.  Until  the  hour  of  dinner  I  take  my 
leave,  marchioness." 

"  Marquis,"  said  Laura,  following  him  to  the  door. 

Strozzi  dropped  Barbesieur's  arm,  and  returned  to  her  at 
once. 


THE   MARCHIONESS.  373 

"  You  have  something  to  command  ? "  said  he,  humhly. 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  dine  to-day,"  said  she.  "  It  will  be  use- 
less, then,  for  you  to  return." 

"  I  cannot  deny  myself  that  pleasure,"  was  the  reply. 

Laura  constrained  herself  to  soften  her  tone,  and  to  implore. 
"  Only  this  one  day,"  said  she,  in  trembling  tones.  ""  I  need 
repose — quiet — " 

**  To  weep  out  the  first  pangs  of  widowhood,"  interrupted 
Barbesieur,  with  one  of  his  coarse  lauglis.  "  Come,  Strom — 
let  her  cry  it  out  to-day,  she  will  be  all  the  more  smiling  for  it 
to-morrow." 

"  Then  as  you  please,"  said  Strozzi,  bowing  respectfully.  "  I 
will  not  return  until  to-morrow  before  noon." 

"Tell  my  turnkeys  that  they  need  not  disturb  me,"  said 
Laura.     "  Let  me  be  veritably  and  entirely  alone." 

"You  cannot  dispense  with  their  help,"  objected  the  mar- 
quis. 

"I  can  and  will  dispense  with  their  presence,"  returned 
Laura.  "  And  may  I  ask  of  you,  as  ►a  guaranty  that  I  shall 
not  be  disturbed,  to  leave  the  keys  inside  ?  The  bolts  without 
are  secure,  and  the  women  can  watch  by  the  doors  to  see  that 
I  do  not  attempt  to  escape." 

"Your  will  shall  be  my  law,  to-day,"  said  Strozzi,  "  for  I  am 
but  its  slave.    When  will  you  reward  my  love — when,  Laura  ? " 

"  Leave  me,  I  implore  you,"  was  the  faltering  reply  of  his 
stricken  wife  ;  "  leave  me  for  this  one  day  ! " 

"  I  will,"  cried  Strozzi,  casting  passionate  glances  at  her, 
"  but  to-morrow  ? " 

"  To-morrow,"  replied  Laura,  solemnly,  "  to-morrow  is  in 
the  hands  of  God  I" 

**  There,  now,"  exclaimed  Barbesieur,  "  she  is  making  prom- 
ises already.    Come  along — I  am  really  hungry." 

The  voice  of  Strozzi  was  heard  in  the  anteroom,  and  in  a 
few  moments  Carlotta  removed  the  key  to  the  inside.  With 
one  bound  Laura  reached  the  door,  and  fastened  it  within. 
Then  crossing  the  parlor,  she  locked  herself  within  her  bou- 
doir, and,  falling  on  her  knees,  besought  the  blessing  of  Gk)d 
upon  her  flight— for  she  was  resolved  to  fly  that  very  night. 


374  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

CHAPTER  VI. 
THE  FLIGHT. 

For  one  year — from  the  day  of  her  meeting  with  Eugene — 
Laura  had  heen  revolving  in  her  mind  the  possibility  of  escape, 
and  again  and  again  had  she  been  compelled  to  acknowledge 
that  escape  was  impossible.  At  night,  lest  sleep  should  over- 
power their  senses,  her  untiring  spies  had  barred  the  doors 
that  led  from  the  anteroom  with  their  beds.  Sometimes  Laura 
had  proposed  to  bribe  them  ;  but  in  the  event  of  success  with 
the  women,  a  watchman  kept  guard  at  the  head  of  the  stair- 
case ;  and  at  the  entrance  of  the  castle  was  stationed  a  porter, 
whom  no  one  could  pass  without  the  watchword.  If  all  these 
obstacles  had  been  overcome,  and  the  prisoner  had  found 
egress  to  the  park,  she  was  met  by  four  watchmen,  whom 
neither  promises  nor  bribery  had  power  to  conciliate.  These 
were  four  bloodhounds  who  were  loosed  at  night  by  the  mar- 
quis's own  hands,  and  on  whose  fidelity  h©  knew  that  he  might 
count. 

Flight  through  the  doors  was  out  of  the  question  ;  flight 
from  the  windows,  had  they  been  free,  was  equally  so  ;  for 
whoever  had  dared  their  dangerous  descent,  would  have  been 
devoured  the  very  moment  he  touched  the  ground  below. 

Plan  after  plan  was  made  and  rejected,  and  yet  she  must — 
she  would  escape. 

In  her  parlor  was  one  of  those  large  chimneys  found  in  old 
castles,  chimneys  that  were  intended  to  consume  an  entire  load 
of  wood  at  once.  On  one  occasion,  Strozzi  being  present  at  the 
time,  a  chimney-sweep  went  up  its  grimy  walls,  to  cleanse  them 
from  the  accumulated  soot  of  the  winter.  Strozzi,  forgetting 
that  the  sweep  had  to  return,  began  to  make  declarations  to 
Laura,  and  finally  became  so  lovelorn  as  to  throw  himself  at 
her  feet.  He  was  on  his  knees,  whining  for  forgiveness,  when 
the  little  sweep,  like  a  deus  ex  machina,  alighted  suddenly  in 
the  middle  of  the  hearth,  and  surprised  him  in  his  abject  and 
ridiculous  posture. 

Laura  laughed  outright ;  but  the  marquis,  of  course,  did 


THE  FLIGHT.  375 

not  share  her  mirth.  He  turned  furiously  upon  the  sweep, 
threatening  to  take  his  life  for  his  impertinent  intrusion.  The 
poor  fellow  pleaded  the  impossibility  of  getting  out  by  any 
other  means,  when  the  marquis,  stamping  his  foot  with  rage, 
bade  him  begone  up  the  chimney,  and  ordered  him  to  find  his 
way  over  the  castle-roof  to  another  chimney  at  the  farthest 
extremity  of  the  building,  which  led  into  an  ancient  buttery, 
and  thence  to  the  park. 

From  that  day,  Laura  had  revolved  in  her  mind  the  feasi- 
bility of  escape  through  the  chimney.  If  a  boy  like  that  had 
80  often  gone  up  and  down  in  safety,  why  not  she,  when 
urged  by  the  double  incentive  of  liberating  herself  from 
Strozzi,  and  making  her  way  to  Eugene  ?  The  more  she  pon- 
dered the  scheme,  the  easier  it  seemed  o^  execution,  and  she 
began  seriously  to  resolve  means  for  carrying  it  out. 

Accident  soon  befriended  her.  One  day,  in  stepping  back 
from  a  window,  whence  she  had  been  watching  the  flight  of  a 
flock  of  birds,  her  foot  became  entangled  in  the  carpet,  and  she 
fell.  This  carpet  did  not  cover  the  entire  room.  Within  a 
foot  of  the  walls  it  was  fastened  by  little  brass  rings,  to  nails 
of  the  same  metal,  which  caught  and  confined  it  to  the  floor. 

Laura  naturally  looked  to  see  the  cause  of  her  fall,  and, 
while  examining  the  loosened  nails,  she  perceived  that  the 
carpet — a  magnificent  product  of  the  looms  of  Turkey — was 
lined  underneath  with  a  species  of  black  cotton  cloth,  very 
similar  to  that  of  which  the  sweep's  garments  were  made. 
When  she  saw  this,  her  heart  beat  so  wildly  that  she  felt  as  if 
it  were  about  to  burst.  Here  was  the  material  of  which  her 
dress  should  be  made  !  Providence  had  sent  it  to  her,  and  the 
enthusiastic  girl  knelt  down  and  thanked  God  for  His  good- 


She  now  began  to  loosen  it,  and  night  after  night,  when  her 
door  was  locked  inside,  she  worked  as  prisoners  alone  are 
gifted  to  work,  until  she  had  stripped  off  enough  cloth  for  her 
purpose.  She  gave  out  that,  to  beguile  her  solitude,  she  was 
desirous  of  embroidering  an  altar-cloth  of  black  velvet,  and 
Carlotta  was  dispatched  to  the  nearest  town,  to  procure  mate- 
rials for  the  work. 

Carlotta  was  absent  three  days,  whence  Laura  concluded 
25 


376  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND   HIS   TIMES. 

that  the  ''nearest  town"  was  at  some  considerahle  distance 
from  the  castle,  of  whose  situation  the  marquis  had  taken 
good  care  that  she  should  remain  ignorant.  But  another  ac- 
cident revealed  to  her  the  name  of  the  town.  She  found  it 
in  a  small  paper  which  enveloped  some  thread,  and  contained 
the  name  of  the  merchant  from  whom  it  had  heen  purchased, 
with  the  place  of  his  residence  in  a  street  which  Laura  knew 
to  be  the  great  thoroughfare  of  Turin.  She  was  then  not  two 
days'  journey  from  Turin,  and  no  longer  on  Venetian  soil. 

Once  in  Turin,  she  was  safe  from  pursuit,  for  her  estates 
lay  in  Savoy,  and  the  duke  was  obliged  to  give  her  protection. 
She  was  his  subject,  and  he  could  not  refuse  it. 

And  now  began  that  change  of  manner  and  of  life  which 
had  awakened  the  suspicions  of  the  two  duennas.  For  several 
hours  of  the  day  she  worked  at  her  altar-cloth  ;  but  when 
night  set  in,  and  her  doors  were  locked,  the  needles,  thread, 
and  scissors,  disappeared  from  the  frame  in  the  parlor,  and 
the  black  cloth  was  gradually  converted  into  a  jacket  and 
pantaloons  like  that  of  the  sweep.  This  accomplished,  Laura 
set  about  devising  a  cord  and  weight,  by  which  she  might  de- 
scend into  the  buttery.  She  had  so  closely  observed  the  little 
lad  she  was  resolved  to  emulate,  that  she  had  succeeded  in 
fashioning  out  of  the  heavy  bindings  of  some  old  hangings, 
that  lay  in  a  sort  of  rubbish  closet,  a  stout  rope,  of  strength 
sufiBcient  to  bear  her  weight. 

It  was  at  this  juncture  of  her  preparations,  that  Barbesieur 
broke  in  upon  her  happy  solitude,  with  his  terrible  tidings  of 
Eugene's  misfortune.  She  was  ready  to  risk  her  life  to  meet 
him,  and  perchance  he  was  mortally  wounded,  and  she  might 
never  see  him  more  !  A  woman  less  resolute  might  have 
faltered  in  her  purpose  ;  but  to  Laura  the  news  of  her  lover's 
danger  had  imparted  new  strength,  and  she  would  liberate 
herself  that  very  night,  or  perish  in  the  attempt. 

She  had  no  money  ;  the  marquis  had  considered  it  prudent 
to  relieve  her  of  the  custody  of  her  wealth,  and  to  put  it  out 
of  her  power  to  bribe  his  spies.  But  she  had  jewels,  and  such 
of  these  as  could  be  concealed  about  her  person  she  took. 

During  the  day  she  had  played  upon  her  harp,  and  impro- 
vised melodies  so  ravishing,  that  Strozzi  had  been  on  his  knees 


THE  FLIGHT.  377 

outside,  listening  and  weeping  by  turns.  Finally,  when  she 
had  ceased  singing,  he  knocked,  and  besought  her  to  let  him 
look  for  one  moment  upon  her  face,  to  let  him  imprint  one 
kiss  upon  her  hand. 

Laura  thought  it  prudent  to  comply,  so  she  opened  the  door 
and  allowed  him,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  to  hold  her  hand 
and  press  it  to  his  lips,  and  to  thank  her  for  the  heavenly 
music.  Not  to  overdo  the  matter,  she  allowed  him  to  remain 
but  a  few  moments  ;  and  the  marquis  retired,  perfectly  con- 
vinced that  all  was  right,  and  that  he  had  a  hope  of  winning 
that  obdurate  heart  at  last. 

Night  was  at  hand  I  The  skies  were  overclouded,  with  here 
and  there  a  star  struggling  through  the  darkness.  Gradually 
the  castle  grew  silent,  the  closing  of  doors  and  drawing  of  bolts 
ceased  at  last,  and  all  was  still. 

All,  except  those  two  duennas  ;  and  Laui*a  saw  that  if  she 
ever  was  to  lull  them  to  bed,  she  must  call  them  in  to  undress 
her.  So  opening  the  door,  she  beckoned  to  Carlotta,  who,  to 
her  great  joy,  appeared  in  a  dressing-gown.  Finally,  the 
comedy  being  over,  and  the  duennas  completely  hoodwinked, 
Laura  locked  her  doors  a  second  time,  and,  retreating  to  her 
bedroom,  raised  the  carpet  and  drew  forth  her  black  disguise. 
She  tore  off  her  white  night-gown,  clasped  a  pearl  necklace 
around  her  neck,  and  several  diamond  bracelets  on  her  arms, 
and  then  arrayed  herself  in  the  costume  of  the  chimney- 
sweeper. She  took  up  her  rope,  and,  fastening  a  small  iron 
casket  to  the  end,  slung  it  over  her  shoulder,  and  began  her 
dark,  perilous  ascent.  Away  I  away  I  Over  the  castle-roof  to 
liberty  and  love  I — 

With  her  delicate  little  hands  she  seized  a  hook  that  pro- 
jected from  the  chimney.  She  reached  a  second  and  supported 
her  foot  on  the  first ;  a  third,  a  fourth  ;  and  now  the  opening 
grew  narrow  and  more  narrow,  and  she  struggled  along 
through  the  black,  suffocating  hole,  until  her  breath  had 
almost  failed  her,  and  she  had  nigh  been  choked  to  death  I 
Poor  girl  1  She  could  not  reach  her  eyes  to  clear  them  of  the 
soot  that  was  blinding  and  maddening  her  with  pain,  and  she 
began  to  tremble  lest  she  should  lose  her  senses.  But  she 
prayed  to  Qod  to  deliver  her,  and  made  one  supreme  effort  to 


378  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

free  herself.  She  felt  the  air  from  above  ;  the  hole  began  to 
widen,  and  she  could  lay  her  head  backward  and  breathe. 
She  raised  her  smarting  eyes  and  saw  a  light — a  star  !  A  greet- 
ing from  heaven  ! 

But  she  felt  that  at  such  a  moment  she  must  not  indulge  in 
sensibility.  The  extremity  in  which  she  found  herself  re- 
quired resolution,  daring,  and  coolness.  She  called  up  all  her 
courage,  and  struggled  on.  At  last — at  last,  her  hands  rested 
on  the  top  of  the  chimney  :  she  drew  herself  upward,  and  with 
one  bound  sprang  upon  the  roof. 

For  a  moment  or  two  she  leaned  her  weary  arms  upon  the 
edge  of  the  chimney ;  then,  placing  her  ear  at  the  opening, 
she  listened  to  hear  if  there  was  any  stir  below.  No — all  was 
silent ;  not  a  sound  broke  the  profound  stillness  of  the  night. 
She  must  be  going  then — over  the  castle-roof  to  liberty  and 
love ! 

She  groped,  with  hands  outstretched,  for  some  support,  but 
found  nothing.  Nevertheless  she  must  tread  the  dark  and 
mysterious  way  that  was  to  lead  her  to  freedom,  and  she  made 
a  few  steps  forward.  Suddenly  she  grew  faint  and  dizzy,  and 
a  shudder  ran  through  her  limbs  ;  she  tried  to  rally  her 
strength  and  put  out  her  foot.  It  encountered  some  obstacle 
which  sent  her  reeling  backward  ;  and,  murmuring  a  prayer 
to  Heaven,  she  swooned  and  fell.  When  she  recovered  her 
senses,  she  was  lying,  she  knew  not  where,  perhaps  she  had 
fallen  from  the  battlements  to  the  ground,  there  to  be  devoured 
by  the  savage  bloodhounds,  or  to  become  again  and  forever 
the  prisoner  of  the  abhorred  marquis.  But  she  felt  no  pain 
and,  stretching  out  her  hand  to  make  an  effort  to  rise,  she  per- 
ceived that  she  was  on  a  smooth,  hard  surface,  and  lay  against 
the  battlements,  or  rather  against  a  heavy  stone  balustrade 
that  surrounded  the  castle-roof.  With  this  balustrade  to  grasp^ 
she  could  arrive  at  the  chimney  she  was  seeking  ;  all  she  had 
to  do,  was  to  use  it  as  a  guide  to  the  remote  wing  she  was  try- 
ing to  reach.  If  there  had  been  but  a  few  friendly  stars  to 
smile  upon  her  perilous  pilgrimage  !  But  the  night  was  fear- 
fully dark  ;  so  dark  that  she  had  no  reliance  beyond  her  sense 
of  touch.  This  alone  admonished  her  of  her  approach  to  the 
angle  where  she  was  to  turn  into  the  wing.    Now  and  then 


THE  FLIGHT.  379 

she  paused  and  looked  back  to  see  if  there  was  light  or  sign  of 
life  along  that  broad  castle-front.  But  all  was  safe,  and  she 
went  slowly  on.  She  felt  hopeful  now,  and  strengthened,  for 
the  wing  was  quite  remote  from  the  inhabited  parts  of  the  cas- 
tle ;  its  windows  opened  low  ;  and  a  pathway,  now  overgrown 
with  weeds,  led  from  one  of  these  windows  to  a  gate  which,  as 
the  marquis  had  never  dreamed  of  danger  in  that  quarter,  was 
always  left  unlocked  for  the  accommodation  of  the  foresters 
and  wood-cutters.  Oh,  that  she  were  but  there  !  On  I  on  I 
she  must  hasten,  or  she  might  be  discovered  !  She  was  about 
to  press  forward,  when,  to  her  unspeakable  horror,  she  per- 
ceived that  her  hand  rested  no  longer  on  the  balustrade. 
She  had  passed  the  chimney  and  stood  upon  the  unprotected 
battlements  !  Shuddering,  she  drew  back — her  feet  almost 
giving  way  under  her  trembling  limbs  ;  but  in  the  might  and 
vigor  of  her  strong,  firm  will,  she  drew  herself  up  and  retreated. 
The  roof  was  not  steep — it  had  merely  descent  enough  to  carry 
off  the  rain  ;  but  the  tiles  were  so  smooth  that  more  than  once 
she  slipped  back,  and  she  was  becoming  timorous  and  weak. 
While  she  was  resting  for  a  moment  from  her  fatigue,  how- 
ever, she  saw  something  looming  up  above  the  roof  the  sight 
whereof  restored  her  courage  and  her  strength.  It  was  the 
long-sought  chimney. 

She  darted  toward  it,  and  in  a  few  moments  had  made  fast 
her  rope,  and  dropped  it  within.  She  caught  it  in  her  hawds, 
and  then,  carefully  sliding  into  the  chimney,  began  her  fri|;ht- 
ful  descent.  In  vain  she  tried  to  resist ;  the  rope  slipped 
through  her  fingers  with  such  fearful  rapidity  that,  by  the  time 
she  had  reached  the  hearth,  her  delicate  hands  were  all  stream- 
ing with  blood.  She  scarcely  felt  the  pain,  she  had  but  one 
absorbing  thought — she  was  free  I 

Folding  those  poor,  quivering  hands,  she  whispered  a 
thanksgiving  to  God,  and  rose,  full  of  hope  and  joy.  Not  a 
sound  was  to  be  heard  ;  and  now,  blessing  the  obscurity  that 
shielded  her  from  view,  she  opened  the  window,  and  darted 
down  the  pathway.  The  gate  yielded  to  her  touch,  and,  like 
a  frightened  doe,  she  fied  through  the  woods,  until  the  castle 
was  out  of  sight,  and  she  could  venture  to  breathe. 


380  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  forester's  HUT. 

Morning  had  not  yet  dawned  ;  nevertheless  there  was  light 
and  life  in  a  little  hut  that  nestled  in  the  woods  near  Strozzi 
Castle.  The  forester,  in  hunting  costume,  stood  in  the  middle 
of  the  hearth  ;  while  his  young  wife,  hy  the  light  of  a  flaming 
pine  torch,  prepared  his  breakfast. 

The  whole  room  was  illumined  by  the  torch,  whose  red 
rays  flickered  even  over  the  face  of  the  infant  that  lay  sleeping 
in  its  cradle,  and  shone  far  down  the  forest  glade,  a  kindly 
beacon  to  guide  the  footsteps  of  the  fugitive  of  Strozzi  Castle. 

The  forester  rose  from  his  breakfast,  and  slung  his  gun 
across  his  shoulder.  "Now  I  must  go,  Marcella,"  said  he,  "or 
the  stag  will  have  left  the  brook  before  I  get  there.  By  sunrise 
it  will  be  off." 

"  Go,  then,  Luigi,  and  may  the  holy  Bernard  protect  you  I 
I  do  hope  you  will  bring  down  the  stag,  and  please  the  marquis 
hj  your  skill  as  a  huntsman." 

"  Please  him  ?  He  looks  as  if  nothing  on  earth  would  ever 
please  him  again.  He  is  the  crossest- looking  man  you  ever 
saw  ;  so  unlike  his  wife.  They  say  the  marchioness  is  crazy ; 
but  I  do  not  believe  it." 

"  Why,  Luigi  ?    Did  you  ever  see  her  ?  " 

"  Once,  when  I  went  to  the  castle  to  tell  the  marquis  that 
his  hounds  were  ready  for  the  hunt.  He  was  out  walking  in 
the  park,  and  I  had  to  wait  for  him  to  come  back.  Presently 
he  came  with  two  lackeys  before  him,  and  two  behind,  and  at 
his  side  the  most  beautiful  woman  you  ever  laid  your  eyes 
upon.  I  could  have  fallen  on  my  knees  before  her,  she  looked 
so  lovely  ;  while  he — bless  me,  Marcella,  with  his  fierce  eyes 
and  his  thick  brows  frowning  over  his  long,  sallow  face,  he 
looked  like  Love's  headsman — such  a  face. — But  I  must  go  ;  I 
will  tell  you  the  rest  another  time." 

"  Oh  no  ;  do  tell  it  to  me  now,  I  love  so  to  hear  you  talk, 
dear  Luigi.  But  I  will  not  keep  you  from  your  work.  Let 
me  go  a  bit  with  you  into  the  forest,  as  far  as  the  blasted  oak. 


THE  FORESTER'S  HUT.  381 

It  is  too  late  for  me  to  sleep,  and  the  baby  will  not  wake  for 
half  an  hour.'' 

"  Very  well,"  said  Luigi,  kissing  her  ;  "  come,  for  morning 
will  soon  dawn. " 

So,  with  their  arras  entwined  about  each  other,  the  young 
couple  went  out  into  the  woods,  and  the  sound  of  their  loving 
voices  was  sweet  to  the  ear  of  the  wanderer  that  stood  upon 
their  threshold.  Laura  pushed  open  the  door,  and  entered  the 
little  room,  looking  around  to  see  if  any  one  was  nigh. 

Her  dress  was  torn,  and  her  hands  and  feet  were  bleeding ; 
but  her  countenance  beamed  with  hope,  as,  approaching  the 
fireplace,  she  rested  her  stiffened  limbs. 

After  enjoying  for  a  few  moments  the  reviving  glow  of  the 
fire,  she  rose  and  looked  around  to  assure  herself  that  no  one 
was  near.  "  She  is  to  be  absent  for  half  an  hour,"  said  Laura 
to  herself.  "  By  that  time  I  will  have  destroyed  this  garment, 
and  God  will  forgive  me  the  substitution  of  my  bracelet  for 
one  of  the  peasant's  gowns." 

Opening  a  chest  that  stood  by  the  side  of  the  bed,  the  mar- 
chioness took  out  a  petticoat  and  kirtle  of  coarse,  dark  stuff ; 
stripped  off  her  sweep's  dress,  and,  in  a  trice,  was  transformed 
into  a  country-maid,  very  beautiful,  but  sooty  still.  Then 
throwing  her  disguise  into  the  fire,  she  rejoiced  to  think  that 
no  human  being  would  ever  find  out  the  manner  of  her  escape. 

Half  an  hour  after,  Marcella  returned,  and  rekindling  the 
fire,  prepared  to  warm  her  baby's  milk.  As  she  rose  from  her 
knees,  she  looked  instinctively  around  at  the  child's  cradle* 
and  there,  to  her  extreme  astonishment,  she  saw  the  figure  of 
a  woman  with  hands  outstretched,  and  eyes  that  seemed  to 
plead  for  mercy.  Marcella  darted  toward  the  cradle,  her  fears 
being  entirely  for  her  child.  But  it  lay  peacefully  slumbering 
with  a  smile  on  its  face,  and  the  mother  began  to  be  apprehen- 
sive for  her  wares. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  '*  said  she,  sharply,  to  Laura. 

"  Marcella,"  replied  the  marchioness,  coming  forward  and 
taking  her  hand,  "  I  am  an  unhappy  woman,  that  implores 
you,  by  all  your  hopes  of  heaven,  to  rescue  her  from  persecu- 
tion." 

But  Marcella  heard  not  a  word  of  this  petition.    She  had 


382  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

recognized  her  petticoat  and  kirtle,  and  screamed  witli  all  her 
might : 

"  Those  are  my  clothes,  you  thief  !  You  have  been  rob- 
bing me  !  Thief  !  thief  ! "  cried  she.  "  Oh,  why  is  Luigi  not 
here  ?    Give  me  my  kirtle  !    Off  with  my  clothes,  this  instant, 


you  rogue 


f " 


Laura  was  somewhat  alarmed,  and  not  a  little  hurt ;  for  the 
grasp  of  the  peasant  was  rough,  and  her  voice,  as  she  called 
for  help,  was  loud  and  piercing. 

"  Marcella,"  said  she,  when  she  had  opportunity  to  speak, 
and  her  tones  were  so  pleading,  that  the  woman  listened  in 
spite  of  herself — "  Marcella,  as  I  stood  beside  your  threshold 
to-night,  I  heard  your  husband  telling  you  of  the  misfortunes 
of  the  Marchioness  Strozzi.  He  broke  off  to  go  into  the  for- 
est ;  you  followed  him,  and  now  I  can  tell  you  what  he  related 
after  you  left  the  cottage.  Your  husband  came  respectfully 
up  to  the  marquis,  who  repulsed  him  rudely,  and  asked  what 
business  he  had  in  the  court  of  the  castle.  Luigi  replied  that 
Battista  had  admitted  him,  whereupon  the  marquis  discharged 
Battista  on  the  spot,  and  drove  him  from  the  castle.  Then  he 
dragged  the  marchioness  forward  and  hurried  her  up  the  steps 
of  the  portico." 

"  Just  so,"  murmured  Marcella.  "  But  what  else  ?  Do  you 
know  what  else  occurred  ?    What  the  signora  did  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  do.  Slipping  from  her  finger  a  diamond-ring, 
she  presented  it  to  Battista,  saying,  '  Forgive  me  ;  it  is  I  who 
am  the  cause  of  your  dismissal.' " 

"  So  she  did  ! "  cried  Marcella.  "  But  how  came  you  to 
know  ? " 

"  Alas  I  I  am  that  unhappy  marchioness." 

"  The  Marchioness  Strozzi  ! " 

"  Yes  ;  but  believe  me,  Marcella,  I  am  not  crazy.  For  five 
years  I  have  been  a  prisoner,  and  now  that  God  has  willed  my 
liberation  by  means  so  marvellous  as  almost  to  partake  of  the 
character  of  a  miracle.  He  has  sent  me  to  you  that  you  might 
aid  in  the  blessed  work  of  my  deliverance.  See  my  hands 
bleeding  and  cut— see  my  feet  torn  by  thorns,  and  bruised  by 
stones  ;— and  oh,  as  you  hope  for  mercy,  help  me  on  my  way 
toHbertyl" 


THE  FORESTER'S  HUT.  383 

"  I  do  not  believe  you,"  was  the  reply  of  the  cautious  Mar- 
cella.  '*  The  Marchioness  Strozzi  would  not  come  out  of  her 
grand  castle  by  night  to  steal  a  poor  peasant-woman's  clothes. 
Where  are  your  fine  garments,  if  you  are  the  marchioness  ? 
Let  me  see  them." 

"I  came  disguised,  and  burnt  up  the  dress  in  which  I  made 
my  escape.  I  needed  another  disguise,  and  have  taken  your 
clothes ;  but  I  will  reward  you  richly  for  the  forced  loan. 
Take  this  bracelet ;  your  husband  can  sell  it,  and,  with  the 
money,  buy  you  a  pretty  farm." 

"  Ah  I  *'  screamed  Marcella  again,  "  now  I  know  you  to  be 
a  thief,  perhaps  worse  than  a  thief  !  You  have  been  stealing 
the  jewels  of  the  signora  ;  for  aught  I  know,  murdering  her 
with  those  bloody  hands,  and  now  you  want  to  bribe  me  to 
help  you  away  !  No,  no,  you  shall  not  escape — that  I  promise 
you." 

''  Oh,  Marcella,  how  shall  I  convince  you  that  I  am  no  im- 
postor ?  I  swear,  by  Grod  who  made,  by  Christ  who  redeemed 
me,  and  by  His  holy  mother,  the  Blessed  Virgin,  that  I  am  the 
Marchioness  of  Strozzi,  the  unhappy  prisoner  of  yonder 
gloomy  castle.  It  is  impossible  that  you  can  be  so  cruel  as  to 
deliver  me  into  the  hands  of  its  wicked  lord  !  A  woman  that 
loves — that  loves  her  husband  and  child,  must  surely  have  a 
compassionate  heart  I  See — I  am  at  your  feet  I — In  mercy, 
help  me  to  escape  ! " 

Marcella  slowly  shook  her  head.  *'  I  cannot,  1  cannot,  I 
dare  not." 

"Yes,  yes,  you  can,  you  dare  do  a  good  action.  Think  of 
the  joy  you  experienced  when  the  pangs  of  your  travail  were 
past,  and  you  had  given  birth  to  a  child  whom  you  loved  even 
6efore  it  had  seen  the  light  of  life.  Think,  if  your  child  should 
be  in  distress  like  mine,  and  kneel  in  vain  at  the  feet  of  an- 
other woman  who  might  deliver  it  from  peril,  and  would  not  I 
— Oh,  if  you  were  in  your  grave,  as  my  dear  mother  is,  would 
you  not  curse  the  heartless  being  that  repulsed  your  orphan  I 
— Oh,  mother  1  my  dead  mother  !  soften  this  woman's  heart, 
that  she  may  help  me  I " 

Just  then  the  voice  of  the  baby,  cooing  in  its  cradle,  reached 
Marcella's  ear,  and  strangely  moved  her  heart 


384  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

"  Ah,  the  child — the  dear  child  will  plead  for  me,"  cried 
Laura.  And,  stooping  to  the  cradle,  she  raised  the  baby  in 
her  arms,  and  brought  the  little  rosy,  smiling  thing  to  its 
mother's  feet. 

"  Let  this  baby,  whom  you  love,  be  my  advocate.  I  lay  my 
hand  upon  its  head  and  swear  before  Heaven  that  I  am  an  in- 
nocent fugitive  from  persecution.  Do  unto  me  as  you  would 
have  others  do  unto  your  own  child." 

And  Marcella,  no  longer  able  to  resist  the  pleadings  of 
that  melodious  voice,  burst  into  tears,  and,  encircling  both 
Laura  and  the  baby  in  her  arms,  clasped  them  close  to  her 
heart. 

"  My  child,  my  child  !  "  cried  she,  tenderly.  "  As  I  do  to 
this  unhappy  lady,  so  may  others  do  unto  you." 

"  Then  you  will  not  betray  me  ! "  cried  Laura,  joyfully. 
"  Oh,  good,  good  Marcella,  may  God  bless  you  for  those  pity- 
ing words  ! " 

Marcella  wiped  her  eyes,  kissed  her  baby,  and,  replacing  it 
in  its  cradle,  said,  "  Now,  signora,  that  I  consent  to  assist  you, 
tell  me  at  once  what  is  to  be  done,  for  it  must  be  done 
quickly." 

"  Give  me  these  clothes  and  a  little  money  ;  guide  me  out 
of  the  forest  to  a  post-station  whence  I  may  travel  to  Turin  ; 
and  for  these  services  take  the  bracelet :  it  is  honestly  mine^ 
and  therefore  yours." 

"  It  is  now  four  o'clock,"  observed  Marcella,  looking  toward 
the  east. 

"  And  precisely  at  eight  the  marquis  will  visit  my  rooms 
and  discover  my  flight.  Come — come — we  have  indeed  no 
time  to  lose." 

"  We  can  reach  the  station  in  an  hour,"  replied  Marcella, 
"  and  the  postilions  will  start  early  this  morning  for— to  what 
point  did  you  say  you  wished  to  travel,  signora  ? " 

"To  Turin." 

"  That  is  a  pity,"  murmured  Marcella. 

"  Why  ? "  asked  Laura,  anxiously. 

"  Because,  if  you  were  going  northward,  we  might  find  you 
an  escort.  Luigi  and  I  met  a  courier  who  was  going  to  the 
next  station  to  order  post-horses  for  a  traveller  who  is  to  leave 


THE  FORESTER'S  HUT.  385 

for  Vienna  this  morning.  The  man  stopped  to  ask  us  the 
way." 

**  For  Vienna  1 "  cried  Laura.    "  Who  is  going  to  Vienna  ?  '* 

"  The  physician  of  the  Duke  of  Savoy,  whom  his  highness 
is  sending  to  see  a  kinsman  of  his  who  is  very  ill  in  Vienna." 

Laura  uttered  a  cry  of  joy.  '*  C  God  !  my  God,  I  thank 
thee  ! — Come,  Marcella  :  I  know  the  duke's  physician,  and  he, 
of  all  other  men,  is  the  one  I  prefer  for  an  escort." 

"But  your  poor,  bleeding  feet,  signora,"  cried  Marcella, 
piteously. 

"  Never  mind  them.  May  they  bleed  ouevv,  so  I  but  reach 
the  station  in  time  to  meet  the  physician  '  Grod  has  sent  him 
to  my  deliverance.     CJome — let  us*  a  way  I  '* 


BOOK  YI. 


CHAPTER  I. 

SISTER  ANGELICA. 

Two  months  had  passed  away  since  the  fall  of  Belgrade, 
and  Prince  Eugene  of  Savoy  was  still  suffering  from  his 
wound.  Nothing  had  been  spared  that  could  contribute  to  his 
recovery  ;  he  was  attended  by  the  surgeon-in-chief  of  Max 
Emmanuel,  visited  daily  by  the  physicians  of  the  emperor,  and 
nursed  by  his  untiring  secretary,  Conrad.  More  than  once  the 
report  of  his  death  had  been  spread  throughout  Vienna,  and 
then  contradicted. 

But,  until  the  arrival  of  the  physician  of  Victor  Amadeus, 
all  medical  skill  had  proved  unavailing.  Whether  through 
the  agency  of  Doctor  Franzi  or  of  the  nurse  whom  he  had 
brought  with  him,  Prince  Eugene  began,  at  last,  to  improve. 

Sister  Angelica,  the  nurse,  had  watched  her  patient  with 
preterhuman  vigilance.  Day  and  night  she  sat  by  his  bedside, 
dressing  his  wound,  administering  his  medicine,  and  resting 
his  fevered  head  on  her  shoulder  ;  laying  her  soft,  cool  hand 
upon  his  brow,  until  to  wild  delirium  succeeded  tranquil  sleep, 
or  a  calm,  placid  wakefulness.  At  such  times  the  nun  was 
accustomed  to  sing ;  and  at  the  sound  of  her  voice,  Eugene 
smiled,  and  resigned  himself  to  rest. 

At  last,  the  glance  of  his  eye  grew  intelligent,  and  he  re- 
turned to  a  consciousness  of  his  position.  Doctor  Franzi  re- 
marked with  regret,  however,  that  he  was  apathetic,  listless, 
and  quite  indifferent  to  his  recovery.  He  made  no  complaint, 
seldom  spoke,  and  seemed  to  be  sinking  gradually  into  a  state 
of  nervous  prostration. 

"  Your  highness,"  said  the  surgeon,  one  day,  "  you  are  now 

(386) 


SISTER  ANGELICA.  387 

convalescent,  and  it  is  time  you  made  some  effort  to  receive 
ypur  friends," 

Eugene  turned  wearily  away,  and  sighed.  "  No,  no,"  mur- 
mured he,  ''  I  am  averse  to  the  sight  of  any  man,  friend  or  foe." 

•'  Nevertheless,  I  prescribe  it,"  urged  the  doctor.  "  You  are 
now  less  sick  in  body  than  in  mind,  and  you  must  have  change 
of  scene  to  cheer  you." 

"Change  will  not  cheer  me,"  replied  Eugene,  languidly. 
"  I  feel  nothing  but  absolute  weariness  of  life." 

"  A  morbid  state  of  mind  resulting  from  your  long  confine- 
ment to  this  room,  and  it  must  be  overcome  by  yourself.  A 
pretty  thing  it  would  be,  to  be  sure,  if,  after  saving  your  life, 
we  should  allow  you  to  fling  it  away  because  you  are  as  melan- 
choly as  a  lovesick  maiden  ! " 

"  Doctor,"  cried  Eugene,  flushing,  "  choose  your  words  more 
carefully  ! " 

"  Good,  good,"  returned  the  doctor,  with  an  approving  nod. 
"  You  have  some  spirit  left,  I  perceive,  and  if  you  would  but 
see  one  or  two  of  your  most  intimate  friends — " 

"  I  will  not  see  them,"  interrupted  Eugene,  peevishly.  He 
would  have  said  something  more,  but  his  speech  was  checked 
by  a  paroxysm  of  coughing.  In  a  moment,  the  door  opened 
noiselessly,  and  the  nun  gliding  in  hastened  to  support  his 
trembling  frame  ;  and,  while  he  suffered  his  head  to  fall  upon 
her  shoulder,  wiped  the  dews  from  his  clammy  forehead. 
Then,  gently  placing  him  on  his  pillow,  she  warmed  his 
drink  over  a  lamp,  and  held  it  to  his  lips  while  he  partook  of  it. 

"Thank  you,  dear  sister,"  said  the  invalid,  faintly. 

The  next  morning  a  consultation  was  held  by  the  physicians 
of  the  prince,  and  it  was  decided  that  he  must  have  change  of 
air  without  delay.  Eugene,  reclining  in  an  arm-chair,  looked 
wearily  on,  until  the  conference  was  at  an  end  ;  then,  shaking 
his  head  and  frowning,  he  turned  away  and  'gazed  fixedly  at 
his  nurse,  who,  with  arms  crossed  over  her  breast,  stood  close 
at  hand,  ready  to  anticipate  his  wants  ere  he  could  give  them 
utterance. 

"  Your  highness  must  not  resist,"  said  the  imperial  court 
physician.  *'  Change  of  air  and  of  scene  is  indispensable  to 
your  recovery." 


388  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

"  Let  me  die  here,"  was  Eugene's  languid  reply. 

"  Your  highness  is  not  going  to  die,"  observed  Doctor 
Franzi ;  "  but  I  am  afraid  that  you  are  about  to  cause  the  death 
of  another  person." 

"  Whom  can  you  mean  ? "  asked  Eugene,  interested. 

"I  mean  Sister  Angelica,  your  nurse." 

"  Surely  she  is  not  sick,"  said  the  prince,  turning  anxiously 
around.     "No  I  "  said  he,  smiling,  "  no — she  is  here." 

"  And  yet  she  is  sick,"  persisted  Doctor  Franzi.  "  For  a 
month  past,  she  has  lived  without  sleep,  scarcely  snatching  a 
moment  to  change  her  clothing,  and  never  once  breathing  any 
but  the  air  of  this  sick-room."  The  nun  made  a  deprecating 
gesture.  "You  need  not  deny  it,"  continued  the  doctor. 
"  Prince,  when  Sister  Angelica  was  allowed  by  the  prioress  of 
her  convent  to  accompany  me  to  Vienna,  she  made  a  vow 
never  to  leave  my  patient  until  he  recovered  from  his  illness 
or  died.  Now  you  are  neither  dead  nor  about  to  die  ;  but  if 
you  do  all  you  can  to  frustrate  our  endeavors  to  cure  you,  your 
nurse  will  succumb  long  before  you  are  well  enough  to  dis« 
pense  with  her  valuable  services." 

"  In  that  case,  I  cease  to  oppose  you,"  said  Eugene.  "  Do 
with  me  what  you  will.  God  forbid  that  I  should  harm  my 
ministering  angel  I" 

"  In  view  of  your  highness's  submission  to  our  orders,"  ob- 
served the  court  physician,  "his  majesty  the  emperor  has  of- 
fered the  use  of  his  palace  at  Schonbrunn,  and  we  have  taken 
the  liberty  of  preparing  every  thing  for  your  immediate  de- 
parture." 

"  His  majesty  is  too  kind,"  was  the  reply,  "  and  my  first 
care  shall  be  to  thank  my  gracious  sovereign  for  so  signal  a 
proof  of  his  beneficence.  Let  us  then  depart  for  Schonbrunn. 
You  are  satisfied,  dear  sister,  are  you  not  ? " 

The  sister  bowed  her  head,  and  passed  her  hand  over  Eu- 
gene's glossy,  black  hair,  while  Doctor  Franzi  came  in  and 
out,  making  preparations  for  the  accommodation  of  his  pa- 
tient. 

A  litter  was  brought,  and  when  the  prince  had  been  care- 
fully placed  upon  it  the  doctor  inquired  whether  he  felt  com- 
fortable enough  therein  to  bear  the  journey.     Eugene,  on 


SISTER  ANGELICA.  389 

his  part,  asked  how  his  physician  and  the  nun  were  to 
ti'avel. 

"  We  expect  to  occupy  your  highness's  carriage,  and  to  pre- 
cede you,  by  a  half  hour,  to  Schonbrunu." 

"Would  it  be  inconvenient  or  uncomfortable  for  Sister 
Angelica  to  occupy  the  litter  with  me  ? " 

"  By  no  means  ;  but  if  she  accompanies  your  highness, 
things  will  not  be  quite  so  comfortable  for  your  reception." 

"  Then  let  me  have  less  comfort,  and  more  content.  She 
supports  my  head  so  delightfully  when  I  cough,  and  moves  my 
wounded  foot  so  gently — " 

Til e  nun  no  sooner  heard  these  words  than  she  put  aside 
the  doctor  who  was  standing  before  her,  and  hastened  to  the 
litter,  altered  the  inclination  of  Eugene's  pillow,  and  very  gen- 
tly changed  the  position  of  his  wounded  foot. 

"  Oh,  how  I  thank  you,  dear  sister  ! "  murmured  the  prince, 
with  a  sigh  of  relief.  "  When  you  are  by,  pain  seems  to  van- 
ish, and  night  breaks  into  joyful  day." 

The  bearers  raised  the  litter,  and  the  little  cortege  set  out 
for  Schonbrunn.  Two  runners  went  before,  to  make  way, 
crying  as  they  went  along  : 

"  Room  for  the  litter  of  his  highness  the  Prince  of  Savoy  ! " 

The  hurrying  wayfarers  retreated  at  the  sound  ;  a  passage 
was  opened  through  the  crowded  thoroughfares ;  and,  whUe 
the  hero  of  Belgrade  was  borne  along  the  streets  of  Vienna, 
the  people  stood  respectfully  aside  to  let  him  pass. 

The  air  of  Schonbrunn  was  pure  and  delightful.  Every 
morning  the  prince  was  conveyed  to  its  lovely  gardens,  where 
he  spent  at  least  an  hour  in  inhaling  the  sweet  breath  of  com- 
ing spring.  He  drank  goat's  milk  for  his  cough,  and  partook 
submissively  of  the  food  prescribed  for  his  nourishment ;  but 
his  fever  was  not  subdued,  and  his  cheeks  grew  paler  and 
thinner  each  day. 

**  We  must  use  other  means,"  said  Doctor  Franzi  to  the  nun, 
who  had  been  anxiously  questioning  him  as  to  the  result  of  a 
consultation  held  that  day  over  the  sinking  patient.  "My 
colleagues  are  of  opinion  that  his  fever  is  hectic,  and  there- 
fore incurable  ;  but  I  differ  with  them.  I  really  believe  that 
if  he  could  be  roused  from  his  apathy,  we  could  save  him  yet. 


390  PRINCE   EUGENE   AND   HIS  TIMES. 

Corporeal  remedies  have  done  their  best ;  we  must  try  a  moral 
reaction." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ? "  murmured  the  nun. 

"  I  mean  that  Sister  Angelica  must  raise  her  veil,  and  break 
her  long  silence,"  replied  the  doctor,  raising  her  delicate  white 
hand  to  his  lips. 

The  nun  trembled,  and  caught  her  breath,  the  doctor  view- 
ing her  with  amazement.  ''  What !  "  said  he,  "  you  who  have 
displayed  such  fortitude  and  endurance,  are  you  about  to  be- 
come faint-hearted  ? " 

"  Doctor,"  whispered  she,  "  joy  has  its  agitation  as  well  as 
grief.     And  if  the  shock  should  be  too  great  for  him  ! " 

"  If  too  great  now,  he  will  never  be  able  to  bear  it,  my 
dear  child.  It  is  possible  that  it  may  deprive  him  for  a  time 
of  consciousness,  but  he  will  awake  to  life  another  man.  At 
least,  such  is  my  impression.  I  consider  that  his  fate  now  lies 
in  your  hands,  and  you  must  decide  it  to-day — nay,  this  very 
hour." 

"  Oh,  doctor,  I  am  so  unprepared  !  I  have  no  self-com- 
mand ;  let  us  wait  until  to-morrow.     If  we  should  fail — " 

"  We  shall  have  done  him  no  injury.  I  am  ready  to  an- 
swer before  God  that — " 

The  door  was  partially  opened,  and  the  valet  of  the  prince 
apologized  for  interrupting  them.  "  His  highness  feels  very 
much  exhausted,  and  calls  for  Sister  Angelica." 

"  She  will  be  there  in  one  moment,"  replied  the  doctor. — 
"You  see,"  whispered  he,  "that  his  heart  has  divined  your 
presence.     As  soon  as  you  leave  the  room,  he  begins  to  suffer." 

So  saying,  he  gave  her  his  hand,  and  she  submitted  to  be 
led  as  far  as  the  door  of  the  prince's  sitting-room.  There  she 
paused,  and  laying  her  hands  upon  her  heart — 

"  Oh,  it  will  burst,"  murmured  she.  "  Doctor,  you  will  re> 
main  with  me — will  you  not  ? " 

"  I  will  remain  as  long  as  my  presence  is  beneficial,  and  de- 
part as  soon  as  it  becomes  oppressive.     Come  ! " 

He  opened  the  door,  and,  with  gentle  constraint,  com- 
pelled her  to  advance.  The  prince,  extended  on  his  couch, 
looked  very  ill.  "  Have  you  given  me  up  ?  Have  you,  too, 
forgotten  me  ? " 


SISTEk  ANGEUCA,  391 

"  '  You  too,' "  echoed  the  doctor,  while  the  nun  was  engaged 
in  preparing  the  patient's  drink.  ''  Why,  has  anybody  else 
ever  forgotten  your  highness  ? " 

"  No,"  sighed  Eugene  ;  "  I  was  unjust.  But  I  have  lost  her, 
and  that  loss  is  killing  me." 

"You  hear  him,"  whispered  the  doctor,  while  the  nun, 
scarcely  able  to  hold  the  glass,  presented  it  to  the  lips  of  her 
patient 

*'  Drink,  Prince  Eugene,"  said  she,  in  low,  trembling  tones. 
At  the  sound  of  her  voice  he  started,  and  raised  his  head  to 
listen. 

'*  Great  Heaven  !    Who  spoke  ? " 

The  doctor  smiled,  and,  slightly  raising  his  shoulders,  re- 
plied :  "  Nobody  but  Sister  Angelica,  I  presume,  for  nobody 
else  is  here." 

"Sister  Angelica  !  "  repeated  Eugene,  slowly.  "  I  thought 
she  had  made  a  vow  of  silence,  to  last  until  her  return  to  the 
convent  ? " 

"  You  are  quite  right ;  but  it  appears  that  she  has  forgotten 
herself  for  a  moment,  in  her  anxiety  to  serve  you.  Drink, 
then,  to  oblige  her." 

Eugene  clutched  the  glass  and  emptied  it  of  its  con- 
tents. 

"Grood,"  said  the  doctor.  "Now  that  you  are  somewhat 
refreshed,  I  must  entertain  you  with  a  little  outside  gossip.  I 
have  letters  from  Turin  to-day.  Victor  Amadeus  has  disen- 
thralled himself  from  his  filial  bondage.  His  mother,  having 
been  regent  during  his  minority,  has  been  struggling  since  his 
majority  to  retain  her  supremacy  over  him  and  the  duchy. 
She  insisted  upon  taking  precedence  of  her  daughter-in-law, 
the  reigning  duchess,  and  was  equally  bent  upon  dismissing 
one  of  the  ministers.  There  was  considerable  strife,  and  no 
little  intrigue  in  Turin,  until  the  defection  of  one  of  the  dow- 
ager's adherents,  which  so  strengthened  the  opposite  party, 
that  she  was  obliged  to  succumb,  and  retired  in  high  dudgeon 
to  her  estates.  The  duke,  on  his  side,  out  of  gratitude  to  his 
new  friend,  has  created  him  prime  minister — an  appointment 
which  is  very  popular  in  Savoy — for  there  is  not  a  worthier 
man  in  the  dukedom  than  the  Marquis  de  Bonaletta." 
26 


392  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

At  sound  of  this  name,  Eugene  started  up,  and  leaning  liis 
head  upon  his  hand,  prepared  to  listen. 

The  doctor  continued  :  "  By-the-by,  he  is  the  uncle  of  the 
unfortunate  young  marchioness  of  that  name  who  was  forced 
into  a  marriage  with  a  depraved  Venetian  nobleman  called 
Strozzi.     Your  highness  has  heard  her  history  ?" 

Eugene  murmured  something  in  reply,  and  sank  back  upon 
his  pillow. 

"  A  very  melancholy  affair,"  pursued  the  doctor,  signing 
to  the  nun  to  approach,  "  and  it  has  ended  most  singularly." 

"  Ended  !  How  ? "  cried  Eugene.  "  Speak,  doctor,  I  implore 
you  :  is  she  dead  ? " 

"  She  ?  The  marchioness  ?  Quite  the  contrary,  she  is  alive 
and  well.  Her  husband  suddenly  disappeared  with  her  from 
Venice,  last  spring ;  and  it  was  discovered  that  he  had  con- 
fined her  within  a  solitary  castle,  somewhere  in  a  forest ; 
having  previously  given  out  to  the  world  that  she  was  a  rav- 
ing lunatic." 

"  The  accursed  liar  ! "  muttered  Eugene.  "  May  God  grant 
me  life  to  avenge  her  wrongs  ! " 

''  Your  highness  is  much  moved  at  the  recital,"  continued 
the  doctor,  "and  no  wonder,  for  it  is  a  fact  much  stranger 
than  fiction.  But  I  will  defer  the  conclusion  of  my  story 
to  some  other  day.    You  are  too  much  excited  to  hear  it  now." 

"  Oh  no,  indeed  !  I  am  strong — well.  Look  at  me,  doctor  ; 
and  believe  me  when  I  say  that  your  conversation  is  more 
healing  than  all  the  medicines  you  have  ever  administered." 

"  In  truth,  your  highness  seems  quite  invigorated  within 
the  last  half  hour.  Do  you  not  perceive  the  change,  Sister 
Angelica  ? " 

She  bowed  her  head,  and  approached  the  couch. 

"  Then,  in  mercy,  let  me  hear  the  rest,"  cried  Eugene,  his 
eyes  flashing  with  eagerness. 

"  Be  it  so,  then.  In  spite  of  bolts,  bars,  and  her  miserable 
husband's  spies,  the  marchioness  has  managed  to  escape." 

"  Escape  !  "  exclaimed  Eugene,  starting  from  his  couch,  and 
standing  upright  upon  the  tloor.  In  a  moment  the  nun  was 
behind  him,  ready  to  support  him  in  case  of  need ;  but  he 
walked  hurriedly  to  the  window,  threw  it  wide  open,  and  in- 


SISTER  ANGELICA.  393 

haled  the  fresh  morning  air.  For  a  while,  not  a  word  was 
spoken.  The  prince  looked  upward  at  the  blue  and  silver 
clouds  that  were  floating  silently  by  ;  his  large,  dark  eyes 
wandered  lovingly  over  the  beautiful  landscape  that  lay  below, 
and  then,  bowing  his  head,  he  lifted  his  heart  to  heaven,  and 
thanked  God. 

"  Doctor,"  said  he,  at  last,  '*  whither  fled  the  marchioness  ?" 

"  No  one  knows,  your  highness.  But  you  must  excuse  me 
if  I  take  my  leave.    I  must  attend  a  consultation  of — " 

"Doctor,"  cried  the  prince,  grasping  him  by  the  arm,  "you 
cannot  go  :  I  must  know  all  that  you  have  to  tell." 

The  doctor  smiled.  "  Upon  my  word,  your  highness  speaks 
as  if  you  were  ordering  a  charge  against  the  Turks.  But  I 
cannot  obey  :  Sister  Angelica  has  heard  the  story  from  begin- 
ning to  end,  and  she  will  relate  the  rest  of  it.    Adieu." 

So  saying,  Doctor  Franzi  left  the  room. 

"  Oh,  dear  sister,"  cried  Eugene,  "  can  you  tell  me  whether 
she  fell  into  his  hands  again  ? " 

^'She  did  not,"  rephed  the  nun,  in  a  low,  tremulous  voice  ; 
*  but  the  shock  of  her  disappearance  was  so  terrible  in  its  ef- 
fects upon  the  marquis,  that  he  is  now  a  maniac  in  the  very 
apartments  wherein  he  had  confined  his  wretched  wife," 

Eugene  had  listened  in  breathless  amazement  to  these  low, 
fluttering  words  ;  and  when  they  ceased  he  seemed  still  to  lis- 
ten. His  face  had  become  excessively  pale ;  his  lips  were 
slightly  parted,  and  his  eyes  riveted  upon  some  imaginary  ob- 
ject at  a  distance,  which  seemed  to  obliterate  from  his  mind 
the  presence  of  his  companion.  She  meanwhile  became  so 
terrified  that  she  clasped  her  hands,  and  knelt  at  his  feet. 

He  saw — he  understood  it  all,  and,  raising  her  in  his  arms, 
he  pressed  her  rapturously  to  his  heart.  The  veil  had  fallen, 
and  she  was  there  !    His  Laura  1  his  long-lost  Laura  ! 


394  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES, 

CHAPTER  II. 

LOUIS  THE  FOURTEENTH. 

The  morning  service  was  at  an  end,  and  King  Louis  XIV., 
attended  by  his  courtiers,  left  the  royal  chapel.  His  counte- 
nance was  troubled,  and  it  followed,  as  a  matter  of  course,  that 
everybody  else  wore  a  woe-begone  expression.  The  fact  is, 
that  things  were  very  dull  and  solemn  at  the  French  court. 
Feasts  and  festivals  were  forbidden,  and  nobody  was  allowed 
to  look  cheerful.  La  Valliere,  in  a  Carmelite  convent,  was 
doing  penance  for  the  sin  of  her  love  for  Louis  ;  while  De 
Montespan,  in  the  world,  was  expiating  hers  within  sight  of 
the  king's  indifference.  He  had  tired  of  her  long  ago,  but  had 
permitted  her  to  remain  at  court,  where  her  saloons  were  as 
stupid,  as  silent,  and  as  empty,  as  they  had  once  been  bright 
and  crowded. 

The  reigning  favorite  was  De  Maintenon,  who  might  have 
had  followers  innumerable,  had  she  desired  them.  But  she  ap- 
peared to  be  perfectly  unconscious  of  her  own  power  ;  going 
about,  now  as  ever,  with  modest  mien  and  simple  dress,  with 
folded  hands  and  downcast  eyes,  apparently  unaware  of  the 
existence  of  any  mortal  whatsoever,  save  that  of  her  well-be- 
loved Louis.  And  her  course  of  action  had  been  triumphantly 
successful,  for  by  many  she  was  believed  to  be  the  legitimate 
spouse  of  the  King  of  France. 

From  the  chapel,  Louis  betook  himself  to  the  boudoir  of  the 
marquise,  and  greeted  her  with  a  slight  inclination  of  his 
royal  head. 

"  Why  were  you  not  at  mass  to-day,  madame  ? "  inquired 
he,  curtly,  as,  hastily  crossing  the  room,  he  flung  open  the 
window,  and  admitted  the  sharp  air  of  a  raw  autumn  morning. 

De  Maintenon  stifled  a  sigh,  and  compelled  herself  to  smile. 
*■'  You  know,  sire,"  replied  she,  gently,  "  that  I  am  indisposed. 
My  physician  has  forbidden  me  to  breathe  the  air,  and  for  this 
reason  I  dared  not  follow  the  impulse  of  my  heart,  and  join 
my  prayers  to  those  of  your  majesty  this  morning.  The  au- 
tumn winds  are  too  keen  for  me." 


LOUIS  THE  FOURTEENTH.  395 

The  king  paid  no  attention  to  De  Maintenon's  allusion  to 
the  ''autumn  winds."  The  window  remained  open,  and  she 
was  obliged  to  stand  dii*ectly  in  front  of  it  as  long  as  Louis 
was  pleased  to  enjoy  the  breeze. 

"  You  are  becoming  sickly,  madame,"  observed  he,  coldly. 

''  True,  sire,  I  suffer  of  late,"  sighed  she. 

"You  are  getting  old,"  replied  he,  tartly.  "Old  age  is  a 
sorry  companion  ;  it  makes  people  peevish  and  disagi'eeable." 

The  marquise  grew  as  pale  as  ashes,  and  the  sharp  glance 
of  her  black  eyes  was  turned  quickly  upon  the  countenance  of 
the  king,  who,  instead  of  looking  at  her,  was  staring  out  of  the 
window  at  the  marble  Naiads,  over  whose  white  limbs  the 
waters  of  a  fountain  were  foaming  and  plashing,  in  myriads 
of  pearly  drops.  He  appeared  to  be  quite  unconscious  of  hav- 
ing wounded  the  feelings  of  his  sensitive  companion. 

She,  on  her  part,  felt  that  a  crisis  was  at  hand,  and  that,  to 
waken  the  king  from  his  apathy,  desperate  measures  must  be 
adopted.    She  plunged  into  her  remedy  at  once. 

"  I  see,"  sighed  she,  "  that  my  presence  is  irksome  to  your 
majesty.  It  is  better,  therefore,  that  I  gather  up  my  strength, 
and  sacrifice  my  happiness  to  yours.    I  will  retire  to  St.  Cyr." 

Louis  raised  his  shoulders.  "  I  think  not.  People  often 
say  such  things,  but  never  mean  what  they  say." 

"  Sire,  Madame  de  la  Valli^re  is  a  proof  of  the  contrary,  and 
I — although  (as  you  remarked  just  now) — I  am  old,  possess  a 
heart  over  whose  emotions  time  and  age  have  no  power.  I 
love  as  I  have  ever  loved,  passionately,  profoundly  ;  but  my 
love  is  disinterested,  and  soars  high  above  all  self -gratification. 
Now  that  it  has  become  obtrusive,  its  current  shall  be  turned 
to  heaven,  and  in  the  sacred  walls  of  a  cloister  I  will  spend  the 
remainder  of  my  days  in  prayer  for  him  whose  image  I  shall 
cherish  unto  death.  Sire,  I  respectfully  request  i)ermission 
to  enter  the  convent  of  St.  Cyr." 

Louis  began  to  be  uneasy.  He  knew  very  well  that  De 
Maintenon  bad  a  vigorous  and  resolute  soul,  quite  capable  of 
carrying  out  any  purpose  dictated  by  her  head  ;  and,  if  once 
she  appealed  from  her  affections  to  her  pride,  he  felt  that  no 
ulterior  persuasions  of  his  would  avail  to  deter  her  from  the 
step  she  meditated. 


396  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

"Are  you  serious,  madame?"  said  he,  reproacMully. 
"  Would  you,  indeed,  forsake  me  ? " 

"  Sire,  I  am  so  earnest  in  my  intention  to  free  you  from  the 
presence  of  an  infirm  old  woman,  that  I  repeat  my  request  to 
be  allowed  to  depart  now — this  very  hour." 

The  king  hated  nothing  on  earth  like  surprises  ;  he  disliked 
to  have  the  sluggish  waters  of  his  every-day  life  stirred  by  un- 
accustomed occurrences.  He  turned  around  at  once  to  remon- 
strate, and,  instead  of  the  pallid  face  he  had  encountered  just  a 
few  minutes  ago,  he  saw  a  pair  of  glowing  cheeks  and  flashing 
eyes,  from  whose  lustrous  depths  there  darted  a  light  that 
warmed  up  his  tepid  old  heart,  and  set  it  to  beating  as  it  had 
been  wont  to  do,  when  La  Valliere  smiled  and  De  Montespan 
coquetted. 

"  Surely,"  said  he,  "  you  would  not  set  a  bad  example  to  the 
wives  of  my  courtiers,  Frangoise  !  You  would  not  teach  them 
ihat  when  they  tire  of  their  husbands  they  may  desert  them, 
and  bury  their  ennui  in  a  convent ! " 

"  Sire,  I  cannot  accept  the  responsibility  of  other  women's 
derelictions.  My  duty  points  out  to  me  a  convent  as  the 
proper  refuge  for  a  woman  who  has  outlived  her  husband's 
love." 

"  I  will  not  release  you  from  your  marriage-tie,  madame  ; 
and,  should  you  brave  my  displeasure,  and  attempt  to  leave 
me,  I  would  follow  you  to  St.  Cyr,  and  drag  you  from  the  altar, 
were  you  in  the  very  act  of  making  your  vows  1 " 

The  marquise  dropped  on  her  knees.  "  Oh,  sire,  do  I  hear 
aright  I  I  am  not  odious  to  you  ! — ^You  will  not  drive  me 
away  from  my  earthly  heaven  I  I  may  yet  be  happy,  yet  be 
loved  ! " 

The  king  bent  over  her,  and  raised  her  tenderly  in  his 
arms.  "Eise,  madame,"  said  he,  "it  does  not  become  the 
wife  of  the  King  of  France  to  bend  the  knee  to  any  man. 
You.  know  full  well,  Fran9oise,"  continued  he,  affectionately, 
"  that  without  you  my  life  would  be  an  aimless,  burdensome 
one.  Who  could  replace  you,  my  wife,  my  counsellor,  my 
prime  minister  ? " 

*'  Ah,  sire,  what  words  !  They  thrill  me  to  the  depths  of 
my  heart,  and  restore  me  to  bliss  unspeakable  I " 


LOUIS  THE  FOURTEENTH.  397 

"  Then  the  cloud  of  your  discontent  has  passed  away,  has 
it  not?" 

"  Oh,  sire,  it  is  day,  bright  day,  and  my  soul  is  flooded  with 
sunshine  ! " 

"  Then  let  us  sit  down  on  yonder  divan,  and  talk  of  the 
affairs  of  France.  Do  you  know  that  I  have  bad  news  from 
Grermany  ? " 

"  I  feared  as  much,  sire,  when  you  entered  the  room  with 
such  a  troubled  aspect." 

"These  Grerraan  princes  will  not  come  to  a  decision  as  to 
my  claims.  For  four  years  my  envoys  have  been  before  the 
imperial  Diet,  vainly  urging  them  to  define  our  boundaries." 

"  They  are  procrastinating  in  the  hope  of  receiving  succor 
from  the  emperor,  who,  as  soon  as  he  has  sufficiently  humbled 
the  Porte,  will  make  an  attempt  to  humble  France.  With 
Leopold  to  sustain  them,  the  Diet  will  claim  Strasburg  and 
Alsatia,  and  exact  of  your  majesty  the  withdrawal  of  the 
French  troops  from  all  the  Rhenish  provinces." 

"  They  shall  not  be  withdrawn,"  returned  Louis.  "  When 
France  has  her  grasp  upon  a  province,  she  never  relaxes  her 
hold.  And  so  far  am  I  from  any  intention  to  temporize,  that, 
if  the  Diet  decides  against  me,  I  will  not  scruple  to  break  the 
twenty  years'  truce,  and  appeal  to  arms.  This  I  have  long 
ago  decided  to  do,  so  we  need  not  discuss  the  question  any 
longer.  I  have  other  matters  to  confide  to  you,  which  harass 
me.'' 

"  Has  the  emperor  refused  to  recognize  the  new  Elector  of 
Cologne  ? "  asked  the  marquise,  indignantly. 

"  Yes,  he  has  had  the  assurance  to  reject  the  lawful  election 
of  Egon  of  Furstenberg  ;  and  to  appoint,  in  his  stead,  Joseph 
Clemens,  the  brother  of  the  Elector  of  Bavaria.  Out  of  four- 
and-twenty  prebendaries  of  the  archbishopric  of  Cologne,  four- 
teen votes  were  given  to  Egon,  while  Joseph  received  but  ten. 
And  what,  do  you  suppose,  is  the  ground  of  the  emperor's  in- 
solent rejection  of  my  nominee  ?  He  pretends  that  the  four- 
teen voters  were  bribed  by  France,  and  that  the  candidate  him- 
self is  disaffected,  and  under  French  influence.  This  is  tanta- 
mount to  a  declaration  of  war  ;  and,  what  is  worse  than  all, 
Pope  Innocent  sustains  the  emperor." 


398  PKINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

The  marquise  folded  her  hands  in  pious  resignation.  "  That 
is  a  sad  proof  of  the  unfriendliness  of  his  holiness  toward 
France,"  murmured  she.  "  But  that  is  the  fault  of  the  Min- 
ister Louvois.  He  has  deserved  the  displeasure  of  his  holiness 
by  the  forcible  occupation  of  Avignon  (so  long  the  residence 
of  the  successors  of  St.  Peter),  and  by  the  arrest  of  the  papal 
nuncio." 

''  He  could  not  help  it,"  cried  Louis,  impatiently  ;  '*  it  was  an 
act  of  reprisal.  Our  ambassador  at  Rome  had  been  affronted  ; 
the  spies  of  the  pope  had  forced  themselves  into  the  hotel  of 
the  embassy  and  had  arrested  two  men  that  had  sought  pro- 
tection from  the  French  flag." 

"  Sire,"  said  the  marquise  with  determination,  "  they  were 
papal  subjects  and  criminals,  who  had  no  right  to  the  protec- 
tion of  the  French  flag.  It  should  never  be  said  that  Louis 
of  France  shields  from  justice  the  theives  and  murderers 
whom  the  Vicar  of  Christ  would  punish.  You  know,  sire, 
that  these  men  had  committed  sacrilege.  They  had  plundered 
the  altar  of  St.  Peter's  of  its  golden  pyx  and  candlesticks,  and 
had  poniarded  the  sacristan  that  had  them  in  charge." 

"  It  was  a  crime — that  I  cannot  deny,"  said  Louis  with  a 
deprecating  sigh,  ''  but  the  right  of  asylum  is  sacred,  and  we 
were  forced  to  defend  it." 

"  Sire,  do  you,  an  earthly  monarch,  pretend  to  believe  that 
you  can  shield  a  criminal  from  the  all-seeing  vengeance  of 
the  Lord  ?  Had  the  sinner  the  wings  of  the  morning,  where- 
with he  might  fly  to  the  uttermost  limits  of  the  earth,  the  arm 
of  God  would  overtake  and  arrest  him  in  his  flight !  How, 
then,  do  you  pretend  to  cover  his  crimes  with  the  folds  of  the 
French  flag?" 

The  king  was  cowed  by  the  bold  and  uncompromising  voice 
of  truth.     He  folded  his  hands  and  bowed  his  head. 

"  Alas,  alas  !  you  are  right  and  we  were  wrong  !  We 
should  not  have  given  refuge  to  these  murderers  and  plunder- 
ers. I  am  truly  repentant,  Fran9oise,  and  will  do  my  best  to 
expiate  the  sin." 

"  Sire,  you  are  right  to  bewail  the  sin,  but  it  lies  not  on  your 
conscience  ;  it  is  the  fault  of  your  arrogant  minister,  who,  with- 
out consulting  you,  demanded  satisfaction  of  his  holiness  ;  and, 


LOUIS  THE  FOURTEENTH.  399 

when  it  was  righteously  refused,  took  possession  of  Avignon, 
and  imprisoned  the  papal  nuncio.  Then,  when  the  deed  was 
done,  and  not  until  then,  he  dispatched  a  courier  to  Paris,  to 
inform  you  of  what  had  taken  place." 

"  That  is  true,  dear  Fran§oise,"  said  Louis,  mildly  ;  "  but, 
after  all,  Louvois  had  no  alternative.  Had  he  consulted  me,  I 
might  have  felt  myself  bound  to  temporize  ;  whereas,  by  his 
assumption  of  the  act,  he  rendei*s  apology  on  my  part  possible. 
The  thing  is  done  ;  the  honor  of  France  is  satisfied,  and  I  can 
now  release  the  nuncio,  and  make  all  necessary  excuses  to  his 
holiness." 

The  marquise  gazed  searchingly  at  the  countenance  of  the 
royal  casuist,  who  bore  her  scrutiny  without  flinching,  and, 
with  a  slight  clearing  of  his  throat,  went  on  : 

"  I  am  not  yet  at  the  end  of  my  chapter  of  vexations.  A 
courier  has  arrived  to-day  from  the  Marquis  de  Villars.  In 
spite  of  all  his  petty  intrigues,  and  the  millions  with  which  he 
bribed  the  mistress  of  the  elector,  Max  Emmanuel  has  never 
been  estranged  from  Austria.  So  far  from  it,  he  has  assumed 
the  chief  command  of  the  imperial  armies,  and  is  about  to  lay 
45iege  to  Belgrade." 

"He  will  come  to  grief,  sire,"  cried  the  marquise.  "The 
Turks  and  Hungarians  greatly  outnumber  the  imperialists, 
and—" 

The  king  raised  his  hand  and  shook  his  head.  "  I  would 
vou  were  right ;  but,  Franjoise,  you  are  a  false  prophet — ray 
last  and  worst  tale  is  told— Belgrade  has  fallen  I " 

"  The  will  of  God  be  done  1 "  cried  the  marquise.  "  Chris- 
tianity has  triumphed,  and  the  unbelieving  Moslem  has  bitten 
the  dust  I" 

"  Pray,"  interrupted  Louis,  fretfully,  "  put  aside  your  piety 
for  a  while  and  look  at  the  thing  through  the  medium  of  good 
flense  and  earthly  foresight.  The  Emperor  of  Germany  is  vic- 
torious ;  he  is  gradually  weakening  the  Sultan,  so  that  it  is 
within  the  range  of  possibilities  that  he  overturn  the  Ottoman 
power,  and  consolidate  the  Germanic  confederations  into  one 
great  empire.  This  done,  he  will  turn  his  attention  to  France 
^■^f  that  you  may  be  sure.*' 

"My  beloved  sovereign  speaks  of  events  that  will  never 


400  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

come  to  pass,"  replied  the  marquise,  with  one  of  her  most 
enticing  smiles.  "Long  before  the  Emperor  Leopold  will 
have  exterminated  the  Turks,  we  will  force  him  to  defend  his 
own  territories  from  the  invading  armies  of  France." 

"  You  approve  me,  then,  and  think  that  it  is  time  I  began 
to  be  aggressive  in  my  warfare,"  exclaimed  Louis,  eagerly. 

"  I  am  always  of  the  opinion  of  my  lord  and  sovereign," 
was  the  courteous  reply  of  the  marquise,  who  had  already  for- 
gotten the  discussion  relating  to  Avignon.  "  It  remains  to  be 
seen  if  Louvois  acquiesces." 

"  Louvois  will  do  as  he  is  bid,"  said  Louis,  frowning. 

"Remember,  sire,  that  he  said  publicly,  yesterday,  that  the 
French  army  was  not  in  a  condition  to  open  a  campaign,  and 
that  it  could  not  be  equipped  before  spring." 

"  Before  spring  ! "  echoed  the  king.  "  While  the  generals 
of  Leopold  carry  every  thing  before  them  ! — for  he  has  distin- 
guished generals  in  his  service,  madame  ;  one  of  whom  is  that 
same  Eugene  of  Savoy  whom  you  pronounced  unworthy  of  a 
bishopric.  Whatever  he  might  have  done  as  a  churchman,  I 
would  he  were  an  archbishop  rather  than  what  he  is  to-day  ! " 

"  Oh,  sire  1 "  said  the  marquise,  reproachfully.  "  True — I 
never  thought  Prince  Eugene  had  any  vocation  for  the  priest- 
hood ;  and,  knowing  his  disinclination  to  the  church,  I  myself 
advised  him  to  ask  for  a  commission  in  the  army.  He  did  ask 
it — a  mere  captaincy — and  your  majesty  well  remembers  who 
it  was  that  influenced  you  to  refuse  him  so  small  a  boon.  To 
Louvois  France  owes  the  loss  of  this  great  military  genius." 

"  Right,  right,  you  are  always  right,  and  I  have  unwittingly 
given  you  another  pretext  for  blaming  him." 

"  Although  he  is  my  bitter  foe,  I  would  not  blame  him,  sire, 
were  he  not  culpable." 

"  Your  bitter  foe,  Fran9oise  ?    How  ? " 

"  Ah,  sire,  was  it  not  he  that  opposed  our  marriage  ? " 

"Forgive  him,  dear  Frangoise,  he  acted  according  to  his 
own  notions  of  duty.  But  you  see  that  my  love  was  mightier 
than  his  objections,  and  you  are,  before  God,  my  own  beloved 
spouse." 

"  Before  God,  sire,  I  am  ;  but  the  world  doubts  my  right  to 
the  name.     In  the  eyes  of  the  court,  I  am  but  the  mistress  of 


THE  KING  AND  THE  PETITIONERS.  401 

the  king  ;  a  humiliation  which  I  owe  to  Louvois,  who  bound 
your  majesty  by  an  oath  never  to  recognize  me  as  Queen  of 
France." 

"  I  rejoice  to  think  that  he  did  so,"  was  the  king's  reply, 
"  for  the  lie  that  binds  us  is  sacred  in  the  sight  of  Heaven,, 
while  in  the  eyes  of  the  world  I  am  spared  the  ridicule  of  plac- 
ing Scarron's  widow  upon  the  throne  of  Charlemagne  the 
Great.  In  your  own  reception-room  you  act  as  queen,  and  I 
am  perfectly  willing  that  you  should  do  so,  for  it  proves  that 
you  are  the  wife  of  the  king,  and  not  his  mistress.  Be  mag- 
nanimous, then,  and  forgive  Louvois  if,  above  the  ambition  of 
Madame  de  Maintenon,  he  valued  the  dignity  and  honor  of  the 
French  throne.  But  the  hour  of  my  interview  with  you  is  at 
an  end  :  I  hold  a  levee  this  morning,  and  must  leave  you." 

Kissing  the  hand  of  the  marquise,  Louis  bowed  and  left 
the  room. 


CHAPTER  HI. 

THE  KING  AND  THE  PETITIONKRS. 

When  the  king  entered  the  audience-chamber,  the  court- 
iers, dispersed  in  groups  about  the  room,  were  all  in  eager  con- 
versation. So  absorbed  were  they  in  the  subject  under  dis- 
cussion, that  those  who  stood  at  the  opposite  end  of  the  room 
were  not  aware  of  the  royal  presence  until  the  grande  tournee 
forced  it  upon  their  attention. 

The  king  joined  one  of  these  groups.  "  Gentlemen,"  said 
he,  **  what  interests  you  so  deeply  to-day  ?  Have  you  received 
any  important  news  ? " 

"  Yes,  sire,"  replied  the  Prince  de  Conti.  "  We  are  speaking 
of  my  cousin  Eugene.  He  has  been  severely  wounded,  but 
not  until  he  bad  materially  assisted  the  Elector  of  Bavaria  to 
capture  Belgrade." 

"Ah  1  you  have  heard  of  the  fall  of  Belgrade  I"  said  the 
king,  frowning,  as  be  perceived  that  Louvois  was  approaching. 
**  Is  it  you,"  asked  he,  curtly,  "  that  has  been  in  such  hot  haste 
to  spread  the  news  of  the  successes  of  the  imperial  army  ? " 


402  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

"  Pardon  me,  sire,"  replied  Louvois,  "  I  am  no  gossip  ;  nor 
do  the  successes  of  the  Emperor  of  Austria  interest  me  suffi- 
ciently for  me  to  deem  them  worthy  of  announcement  here." 

"  Nevertheless,  they  are  for  you  a  cause  of  no  little  humilia- 
tion ;  for  they  remind  the  world  that  you  were  once  guilty  of 
a  blunder  in  your  statesmanship.  If  I  am  not  mistaken,  it  was 
you  who  caused  me  to  refuse  Prince  Eugene  a  commission  in 
my  army — that  same  Prince  Eugene  who  has  turned  out  to  he 
one  of  the  greatest  military  geniuses  of  the  age." 

"  Sire,"  returned  Louvois,  reddening  with  anger,  "  you  your- 
self were  of  the  opinion  that  Prince  Eugene  of  Savoy — " 

"  Sir,"  interrupted  the  king,  haughtily,  "  I  am  of  opinion 
that  when  you  scorned  Prince  Eugene,  you  were  lamentably 
deficient  in  judgment ;  and  that,  if  he  is  now  shedding  lustre 
upon  the  arms  of  Austria,  it  is  because  you  repulsed  him  when 
he  would  have  entered  the  service  of  France." 

And  the  king,  whose  wounded  vanity  was  greatly  com- 
forted by  a  thrust  at  that  of  his  prime  minister,  turned  on  his 
heel,  and  addressed  himself  again  to  the  Prince  de  Conti : 

"  Whence  came  your  news  of  the  taking  of  Belgrade  ? " 

"  From  the  Duke  de  Luynes,  your  majesty,  who,  you  may 
remember,  has  joined  the  imperial  armies.  But  Eugene  is  not 
the  only  Frenchman  who  has  distinguished  himself  at  the 
siege  ;  the  Prince  de  Commercy  behaved  in  a  manner  worthy 
of  all  admiration." 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  added  the  young  Duke  of  Maine  (the  royal 
«on  of  De  Montespan) .  "  It  is  such  deeds  as  his  that  have  earned 
for  Frenchmen  the  title  of  the  'Knightly  Nation.' " 

And  the  little  hobbling  duke,  who  had  never  drawn  a 
sword  from  its  scabbard,  struck  himself  on  the  breast,  as  if  he 
had  represented  in  his  own  person  the  united  chivalry  of  all 
France. 

"  I  am  curious  to  hear  of  the  valiant  deeds  of  the  Prince  de 
Commercy,"  said  che  king,  carelessly.  "  Pray  relate  them  to 
US,  prince." 

The  prince  bowed  :  "  Sire,  as  the  Prince  de  Commercy  was 
charging  a  body  of  Janizaries  stationed  at  one  of  the  gates  of 
Belgrade,  a  Turk  made  a  sudden  dash  at  his  standard-bearer, 
;and  captured  the  regimental  flag.    The  men  were  disheartened 


THE  KING  AND  THE  PETITIONERS.  403 

at  their  loss,  when  the  prince,  crying  out,  *  Wait  a  moment, 
boys,  and  you  shall  have  another,'  galloped  right  into  the 
enemy's  midst,  and  raised  his  pistol  to  bring  down  the  stand- 
ard-bearer of  the  Turks.  The  latter,  taking  immediate  advan- 
tage of  the  position  of  the  prince,  thrust  a  lance  into  his  right 
side.  Without  giving  the  least  attention  to  his  wound,  Com- 
mercy  grasped  the  spear  with  his  left  hand  and  held  it  fast? 
while  w4th  his  right  he  drew  out  his  sabre,  killed  the  standard- 
bearer  and  bore  away  his  flag.  Then,  withdrawing  the  lance 
from  his  side,  he  gave  the  blood-besprinkled  banner  into  the 
hands  of  the  German  ensign,  saying,  as  he  did  so,  '  Pray  be 
more  careful  of  this  one  than  you  were  of  the  other.' " 

The  king  slightly  bowed  his  head.  "  Indeed,  the  Prince  de 
Commercy  does  honor  to  the  country  that  gave  him  birth.  I 
will  take  care  that  he  is  suitably  rewarded." 

**  Sire,"  replied  the  Prince  de  Conti,  "  the  Emperor  of  Ger- 
many has  already  done  so.  He  has  been  promoted  ;  and  the 
flag  which  was  stained  with  his  blood  now  hangs  within  the 
cathedral  walls  of  St.  Stephen's  ;  while,  with  her  own  hands, 
the  empress  is  embroidering  a  new  one  for  the  regiment, 
which,  in  honor,  of  the  prince,  is  called  the  Commercy  regi- 
ment." 

"  The  Emperor  of  Germany  knows  how  to  reward  valor," 
exclaimed  the  Duke  de  la  Roche  Guyon,  "  for  Eugene  of  Savoy 
is  only  five-and-twenty  years  of  age,  and  yet  he  has  been 
created  a  field-marshal." 

The  king  affected  not  to  have  heard  this  remark,  and  passed 
on.  His  courtiers  saw,  with  consternation,  that  he  was  an- 
noyed at  something,  and  every  face  in  the  audience-chamber 
gave  back  a  reflection  of  the  royal  discontent.  Louis  saun- 
tered along,  occasionally  addressing  a  word  or  two  to  such  as 
be  "  delighted  to  honor,"  until  the  grande  toumee  had  been 
made. 

When  the  two  Princes  de  Conti  saw  that  he  was  disengaged, 
they  advanced  with  a  mien  so  respectful,  that  Louis  knew  per- 
fectly well  the  nature  of  their  errand,  although  he  little 
gaeBsed  its  purport. 

^  Well,  gentlemen,"  said  he,  **  for  what  new  escapade  have 
you  come  to  crave  our  royal  indulgence?    I  see,  by  your 


404  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

demeanor,  that  you  are  about  to  ask  a  favor  of  your  sover- 
eign." 

"  Yes,  my  liege,"  replied  the  elder  of  the  two  ;  "  we  have 
come  to  ask  a  favor,  but  not  such  a  one  as  your  majesty  sup- 
poses. We  have  grown  melancholy,  and  your  royal  hand 
can  heal  us." 

"  Grown  melancholy  !  You,  the  boldest,  gayest  cavaliers 
in  Paris ! " 

"  Yes,  sire,"  sighed  De  Conti.  "  We  cannot  sleep  for  think- 
ing of  the  laurels  of  our  kinsman  of  Savoy,  and  we  humbly 
crave  your  royal  permission  to  join  the  imperial  crusade 
against  the  Turks." 

Louis  frowned,  but  quickly  recovered  himself .  *'  Of  course 
— of  course,"  replied  he,  condescendingly ;  "  if  the  laurels  of  the 
little  prince  disturb  your  slumbers,  you  have  my  full  consent 
to  go  after  him.     'Twere  a  pity  to  deny  you  so  small  a  boon." 

And,  without  giving  opportunity  to  the  two  princes  to 
thank  him,  the  king  turned  around  and  addressed  Marshal 
Crequi : 

"  Who  knows,"  said  he,  raising  his  voice,  "  whether  these 
two  silly  boys  have  not  chosen  the  wiser  part  ?  Though  they 
may  never  earn  any  laurels,  they  may  fight  away  some  of  their 
folly — which  loss  would  be  to  them  great  gain." 

"  Sire,  it  is  perfectly  natural  for  youth  to  desire  glory,"  re- 
turned the  old  marshal.  "  I  think  that  thirst  for  fame  is  hon- 
orable to  a  young  nobleman,  and  for  this  reason  I  have  con- 
sented that  my  son,  the  Marquis  de  Blanchefort,  should  join  the 
imperial  crusade,  provided  he  obtains  your  majesty's  consent. 
I  venture  to  hope  that  your  majesty  will  not  refuse  to  him 
what  you  have  conceded  to  the  Princes  de  Conti." 

Louis  looked  with  amazement  at  the  smiling  countenance 
of  the  old  marshal,  but  he  answered  as  before  : 

"  I  certainly  will  not  do  less  for  your  son  than  for  the  De 
Contis.  He  has  my  consent  to  accompany  them  on  their  jour- 
ney after  glory." 

The  young  Marquis  de  Blanchefort,  who  was  near  at  hand, 
would  have  expressed  his  gratitude  for  the  royal  permission  to 
leave  France,  but  the  king  turned  coldly  away,  and  darted  a 
peremptory  glance  at  Louvois. 


THE  KING  AND  THE  PETITIONERS.  405 

The  minister  understood,  and  came  forward  at  once. 

De  Blanchefort,  meanwhile,  hurried  off  to  join  the  De 
Contis,  who,  surrounded  by  a  group  of  young  noblemen,  were 
engaged  in  a  low,  but  earnest  conversation. 

'•  I  have  my  discharge,''  whispered  he. 

"  Then  you  are  the  third  one  upon  whom  fortune  has  smiled 
to-day,"  sighed  the  young  Duke  de  Brienne.  "  I  wish  1  were 
as  far  advanced  as  you." 

''  Allow  me  to  give  the  three  lucky  knights  a  bit  of  advice," 
whispei*ed  the  Duke  de  la  Roche  Guyon,  Louvois's  son-in-law. 
**Make  use  of  the  king's  permission  without  delay.  "Who 
knows,  but  when  the  rest  of  us  prefer  our  petitions,  he  may 
not  withdraw  his  consent  from  you  ? " 

*'  My  dear  friend,"  said  the  younger  De  Conti,  "  our  trunks 
are  packed,  and  our  travelling-carriage  awaits  us  at  the  corner 
of  the  Rue  St.  Honore.  Nobody  knows  what  may  happen  ;  so 
that  we  are  about  to  depart  without  parade,  bidding  adieu  to 
our  friends  by  notes  of  farewell." 

"  You  have  acted  with  foresight,"  replied  the  duke.  *'  And 
you,  De  Blanchefort,  when  do  you  start  ? " 

"  My  father  is  a  soldier,  and  admires  punctuality,"  answered 
the  marquis.  "  Yesterday  afternoon  he  presented  me  with  a 
new  travelling-chariot,  and  this  morning  he  ordered  it  to  be 
ready  for  my  departure,  at  the  corner  of  the  Garde  Meubles. 
That  is  even  nearer  than  the  Rue  St.  Honore,  and  if  you  will 
allow  me,  I  fly  to  see  if  it  is  still  there." 

''  Do  so,"  returned  the  duke,  "  and  our  dear  princes  would 
do  well  to  follow  your  example." 

**We  were  about  to  take  our  leave,  and  now — "  began 
young  De  Conti. 

'*  Away  with  you  !  '*  was  the  reply  ;  and  the  three  young 
men.  murmuring,  *'  Au  revoir,"  disappeared  behind  the  portiere 
which  led  to  the  antechamber,  and  sped  away  from  the  Louvre 
to  their  carriages. 

"Messieurs,"  said  the  Duke  de  la  Roche  Guyon,  taking 
out  his  watch,  *'  we  must  give  them  a  quarter  of  an  hour, 
before  we  irritate  his  majesty  by  preferring  our  own  peti- 
tions." 

When  the  quarter  of  an  hour  had  elapsed,  the  duke  re- 


4:06  PRINCE   EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

placed  his  watch,  and  resumed  :  "  Now  let  us  go  and  try  our 
luck." 

"  Shall  we  go  together,  or  one  by  one  ? "  inquired  the  Duke 
de  Liancourt. 

"We  are  four,  and  the  king's  good-nature  is  soon  exhausted. 
The  last  two  petitioners  would  indubitably  be  rebuffed,  so  1 
think  we  had  better  go  in  a  body." 

"  With  yourself  as  spokesman,"  said  De  Brienne. 

"  Right  I "  echoed  the  others,  and  they  are  all  approached 
the  king.  He  was  engaged  in  conversation  with  Louvois,  and 
interrupted  himself  to  stare  at  the  four  young  men,  as  if  he 
had  been  greatly  astonished  to  see  them. 

"  Here  is  your  son-in-law,"  observed  he  to  Louvois.  "  What 
can  he  want  ? " 

"  Indeed,  sire,  nobody  knows  his  wants  less  than  I.  He  is 
my  daughter's  husband,  but  no  friend  of  mine." 

"  Here  are  De  Turenne,  De  Brienne,  and  De  Liancourt  at 
his  heels,"  replied  the  king,  trying  to  stare  them  out  of  coun- 
tenance, while  the  poor  young  men  waited  in  vain  for  the 
royal  permission  to  speak. 

At  last  the  Duke  de  la  Roche  Guyon  gathered  courage  to 
begin. 

"  Your  majesty,  we  come  with  all  respect — " 

"  We  !  "  echoed  the  king.  "  Then  you  represent  four  peti- 
tioners." 

"  Yes,  your  majesty,  the  three  here  present  and  myself. 
May  I  be  permitted  to  state  the  nature  of  our  petition  ? " 

The  king  bowed,  and  De  la  Roche  Guyon  resumed  :  "  Sire, 
we  are  all,  liiie  the  Princes  de  Conti  and  the  Marquis  de 
Blanchefort,  envious  of  the  laurels  of  Eugene  of  Savoy.  Wa 
are  athirst  for  glory." 

"  And  you  come  to  ask  if  I  will  not  make  war  to  gratify 
your  greed  for  fame  ? "  asked  the  king,  eagerly. 

"  Sire  !  "  exclaimed  the  duke,  "  can  you  imagine  such  assur- 
ance on  the  part  of  your  subjects  ?  No — we  merely  ask  per- 
mission to  join  the  imperial  army." 

"  The  army  of  the  Emperor  of  Germany  ! "  cried  Louis,  in 
a  voice  so  loud  and  angry  that  his  courtiers  grew  pale,  and 
almost   forgot   to   breathe.      But   the    Duke   de   la   Roche 


THE  WINDOW  THAT  WAS  TOO  LARGE.  ^QJ 

Gxiyon  had  steeled  himself  against  the  bolts  of  this  Jupiter 
Tonans. 

"  Yes,  sire,"  replied  he,  courteously,  "  the  army  of  the  em- 
peror who  represents  Christendom  doing  battle  with  Moham- 
medanism. It  is  a  holy  cause,  and  we  hope  that  it  has  your 
majesty's  sympathy  and  approbation." 

"  It  would  appear  that  the  youth  of  my  court  are  drifting^ 
into  imbecility,"  replied  the  king,  with  a  contemptuous  shrug. 
"  They  need  a  physician  ;  and  it  wUl  be  time  enough  to  listen 
to  any  request  they  may  have  to  make,  when  they  shall  have 
returned  to  their  senses." 

"  Your  majesty  refuses  us  I "  said  the  duke,  bitterly. 

"  When  the  king  has  spoken,  sir,"  replied  Louis,  haughtily, 
"  it  becomes  his  subjects  to  obey  and  be  silent.  The  court  is. 
dismissed  !  Monsieur  de  Louvois,  you  will  go  with  me  to  Tria- 
non, to  inspect  the  new  palace.  The  court  are  at  liberty  to  ac« 
company  us." 

This  "  at  liberty "  being  a  command  which  nobody  dared 
resist,  the  king  had  no  sooner  left  the  room  than  the  courtiers 
hastened  to  their  carriages  and  gave  orders  to  their  various 
coachmen  to  join  the  royal  cortege. 


CHAPTER  rV. 

THE  WINDOW  THAT  WAS  TOO  LARGE. 

MEANWHmE  the  king  had  made  his  way  to  the  boudoir  of 
his  marquise,  who  advanced  joyfully  to  meet  him. 

**  Madame,"  said  he,  **  I  am  about  to  drive  to  Trianon  ;  will 
you  accompany  me  ?  Decide  according  to  your  own  judgment ; 
do  not  inconvenience  yourself  on  my  account." 

*'  Your  majesty  knows  that  I  live  in  your  presence,"  sighed 
the  marquise,  '*  but—" 

**  But  you  dare  not  leave  your  room.  Well— I  am  sorry ; 
you  would  have  enjoyed  the  drive." 

"  The  drive  to  Trianon,"  replied  the  marquise,  "  where,  aa 
an  architect,  Louvois  will  be  the  theme  of  your  majesty's  enco- 


408  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

The  king's  lip  curled.  "Scarcely" — said  he.  "I  do  not 
think  that  Louvois  will  enjoy  his  visit  to-day.  I  am  not  at  all 
pleased  with  his  plans,  nor  will  I  be  at  pains  to  conceal  my 
displeasure." 

The  marquise  looked  inquiringly  into  the  face  of  the  king. 
It  was  smiling  and  significant. 

"  Sire,"  said  the  marquise,  "  are  you  in  earnest  ?  May  I  in- 
deed be  permitted  to  accompany  you  to  Trianon  ? " 

"  Indeed,  you  cannot  conceive  how  much  I  regret  your  in- 
ability to  go,"  returned  Louis. 

"  Oh,  sire,  my  love  is  mightier  than  my  infirmities  ;  it  shall 
lend  me  strength,  and  I  shall  have  the  unspeakable  bliss  of  ac- 
-companying  you." 

''  I  counted  upon  you,"  returned  Louis.  "  So  let  us  go  at 
once  ;  the  court  waits,  and  punctuality  is  the  politeness  of 
kings." 

Without  paying  the  least  attention  to  Louvois,  who,  as 
superintendent  of  the  royal  edifices,  stood  close  at  hand,  the 
king  entered  his  coach,  and  assisted  Madame  de  Maintenon,  as 
^he  took  her  place  at  his  side.  Louvois  had  expected  to  be  in- 
vited to  ride  with  the  king,  and  this  oversight,  he  knew,  be- 
tokened something  sinister  for  him. 

And  what  could  it  be  ?  "  The  old  bigot  has  been  sowing 
her  tares  again,"  said  he  to  himself.  "  There  is  some  mortifica- 
tion in  store  for  me,  or  she  would  not  have  exposed  herself  to 
this  sharp  autumn  blast  to-day."  And  he  ran  over  all  the  late 
occurrences  of  the  court,  that  he  might  disentangle  the  knotted 
thread  of  the  king's  ill-humor.  "It  must  be  that  accursed 
business  of  the  Prince  of  Savoy,  and  the  king  is  no  better  than 
these  silly  lads  ;  the  laurels  of  the  little  abbe  keep  him  awake 
at  night,  and  he  vents  his  spleen  upon  me.  What  an  over- 
sight it  was  of  mine,  to  let  that  Eugene  escape  !  Had  I  caused 
liim  to  disappear  from  this  wicked  world  and  given  him  an 
asylum  in  the  Bastile,  he  never  would  have  troubled  us  with 
his  doings  in  Germany.  There  was  my  blunder — my  unpar- 
donable blunder.  But  it  cannot  be  recalled,  and  the  king's 
vanity  is  so  insatiable,  that  there  is  no  knowing  how  it  is  ever 
to  be  appeased.  I  must  succumb  for  the  present,  and — Ah  ! " 
-cried  he,  inteiTupting  the  current  of  his  despondency,  "  I  think 


THE  WINDOW  THAT  WAS  TOO  LARGE.  409 

I  can  repair  my  error.  We  must  allow  his  envious  majesty 
to  gather  a  handful  of  these  laurels  for  which  he  has  such  a 
longing.  We  must  put  the  Emperor  of  Grermany  in  check, 
and—" 

Just  then  the  iron  gates  of  Trianon  opened  to  admit  the 
carriage,  and  the  superintendent  of  the  royal  edifices  made 
haste  to  alight  and  wait  the  arrival  of  the  king. 

For  the  first  time,  his  majesty  condescended  to  seem  aware 
of  Louvois'  presence.  "Monsieur,"  said  he,  to  the  tottering 
favorite,  "  I  have  come  to  inspect  this  chateau.  Madame  la 
marquise,  it  being  intended  as  a  pleasure-house  for  yourself, 
you  will  oblige  me  by  speaking  frankly  on  the  subject." 

So  saying,  he  gave  his  arm  to  madame,  and  the  court,  with 
heads  uncovered,  came  submissively  behind. 

''  Follow  us,"  said  the  king. 

This  "  us "  delighted  the  marquise,  for  it  was  an  informal 
acknowledgment  of  her  right  to  be  considered  as  the  king's 
consort.  With  her  large  eyes  beaming  with  joy,  and  her  face 
radiant  with  triumph,  she  went,  hanging  on  Louis'  arm,  over 
the  chateau  which  his  munificence  had  prepared  for  her  occu- 
pation in  summer.  Immediately  behind  them  walked  Louvois  ; 
and  after  him  a  long  procession  of  nobles,  not  one  of  whom 
dared  to  utter  a  word.  The  central  building  was  pronounced 
satisfactory  ;  its  front  and  marble  colonnade  received  their 
due  meed  of  praise,  and  the  king  ended  by  these  words  : 

"  I  am  perfectly  satisfied  with  Mansard  ;  he  is  really  a  dis- 
tinguished architect." 

"  Sire,"  returned  Louvois,  to  whom  this  eulogium  had  been 
addressed,  "Mansard  will  be  overjoyed  to  hear  of  his  sov- 
ereign's approbation.  But  your  majesty  will  pardon  me  if  I 
appropriate  some  portion  of  your  praise ;  the  ground-plan  of 
the  building  is  mine.    I  furnished  it  to  Mansard." 

The  king  made  no  reply  to  this  attempt  to  extort  a  word  of 
approval ;  he  merely  nodded,  and  went  on  his  way.  They 
had  now  reached  a  point  whence  the  right  facade  of  the  build- 
ing was  brought  to  view. 

'*  Monsieur,"  said  Louis,  pointing  to  the  central  window, 
**tliis  window  is  out  of  proportion." 

**  Pardon  me,  sire,"  returned  Louvois,  submissively,  "  it  is 


410  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

exa<?tly  of  the  size  of  the  central  window  in  front,  and  only 
appears  larger  because  of  the  absence  of  a  colonnade." 

"  Sir,"  said  the  king,  indignantly,  "  I  tell  you  that  this  win- 
dow is  much  too  large,  and  unless  it  be  reduced  the  entire 
palace  is  a  failure." 

"  I  must,  nevertheless,  abide  by  my  judgment,  sire,"  replied 
Louvois,  respectfully.  "  The  two  windows  are  exactly  alike  ; 
this  one  being  more  conspicuous  than  the  other,  but  not  one 
inch  higher." 

"  Then  you  have  been  guilty  of  some  great  oversight  by 
allowing  it  to  appear  higher  than  the  other,"  returned  the 
king,  rudely.  "  Your  plan  is  ridiculous,  and  the  sooner  you 
set  about  mending  it  the  better." 

"  Sire,"  said  Louvois,  bitterly,  "  when  praise  was  to  be 
awarded,  the  credit  of  the  plan  was  Mansard's — " 

"  But  as  you  did  not  choose  to  concede  it,  you  must  accept 
the  blame  of  your  blunder.  Your  vision  is  not  acute,  sir,  a 
defect  that  is  as  unbecoming  in  an  architect  as  in  a  war  minis- 
ter. You  have  been  equally  blind  to  the  monstrous  size  of 
yonder  window,  and  to  the  great  genius  of  my  kinsman,  Eu- 
gene of  Savoy.  Unhappily,  your  want  of  judgment,  as  re- 
gards the  man,  is  irreparable  ;  the  defect  in  your  window  you 
will  be  so  good  as  to  correct." 

"  Sire,"  said  Louvois,  trembling  with  anger,  "  I  beg  to  be 
discharged  from  my  duties  as  architect  to  your  majesty.  Un- 
der the  circumstances,  I  feel  myseK  inadequate  to  perform  its 
duties." 

"  You  are  quite  right,"  replied  the  king.  "  You  will  then 
have  more  leisure  to  devote  to  the  war  department,  and  to  de- 
vise some  means  for  gratifying  the  national  love  of  glory, 
without  driving  my  French  nobles  to  foreign  courts  for  distinc- 
tion.— Come,  madame,"  added  the  king,  to  the  marquise,  who, 
all  this  time,  had  been  standing  with  eyes  cast  down  ;  the  very 
personification  of  humility. — "  Let  us  proceed  to  Versailles  ; 
for  this  ungainly  window  has  taken  away  my  breath.  I  must 
have  change  of  scene  for  the  remainder  of  the  day." 

As  they  took  their  seat  in  the  coach,  the  marquise  whis- 
pered :  "  Oh,  sire  !  how  overwhelming,  yet  how  noble,  is  your 
anger  !    I  should  die  under  it,  were  it  directed  toward  me  ; 


THE  WINDOW  THAT  WAS  TOO  LARGE.  411 

and,  in  spite  of  all  Louvois'  ill-will  toward  me,  I  pitied  him*so 
sincerely  that  I  could  scarcely  restrain  my  impulse  to  inter- 
cede for  him." 

"  You  are  an  angel,"  was  the  stereotyped  reply. 

Meanwhile,  the  court  were  preparing  to  follow  the  royal 
equipage.  Louvois  stood  by,  but  not  one  of  the  nobles  seemed 
aware  of  his  presence  ;  he  was  out  of  favor,  and  thereby  in- 
visible to  courtly  eyes. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day  the  minister  of  war^ 
with  brow  sei*ene  and  countenance  unruffled,  entered  the 
council-chamber  of  the  king.  He  had  found  a  remedy  for  hi» 
annoyances  at  Trianon,  and  he  pretended  not  to  see  the  mar- 
quise, who,  as  usual,  sat  embroidering  in  the  deep  embrasure 
of  a  'window,  almost  concealed  from  view  by  its  velvet  cur- 
tains. 

"  Sire,"  said  Louvois,  "  I  come  before  your  majesty  with 
proposals  of  great  moment,  and  I  await  with  much  anxiety 
your  decision." 

'*Liet  us  hear  your  proposals,"  said  the  king,  languidly. 
"Have  more  couriers  arrived  with  news  of  Austrian  suc- 
cesses?" 

"  No,  sire,  we  have  had  enough  of  Austrian  victories,  and  I 
am  of  opinion  that  the  emperor  must  receive  his  check  from 
the  powerful  hand  of  France.  It  is  time  that  your  majesty 
interposed  to  change  his  fortunes." 

The  king  was  startled  out  of  his  indifference.  He  raised 
his  head  to  listen,  while  the  marquise  dropped  her  work,  and 
applied  her  ear  to  the  opening  in  the  curtains. 

"Your  majesty  has  acted  toward  this  arrogant  Austrian 
with  a  forbearance  that  is  more  than  human.  Well  T  know 
that  your  humane  aversion  to  bloodshed  has  been  in  part  the 
cause  of  your  unparalleled  magnanimity  ;  but  you  have  been 
thwarted  in  your  choice  of  an  Elector  of  Cologne  ;  your  claims 
to  Alsatia  and  Lorraine  have  been  set  aside  ;  the  dower  of  her 
royal  highness  the  Duchess  of  Orleans  has  been  refused  you ; 
and  patience  under  so  many  affronts  has  ceased  to  be  a  virtue. 
The  honor  of  France  must  be  sustained,  and  we  must  evoke,  as 
a  last  resort,  the  demon  of  war." 

*^  Gracious  Heaven  ! "  said  the  marquise,  behind  her  cur- 


412  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

tain,  "  if  he  rouses  the  king's  ambition,  I  shall  occupy  but  a 
secondary  position  at  the  court  of  France,  and  he  will  be  more 
influential  than  ever  !  Louis  has  already  forgotten  me,  else 
he  would  call  me  to  his  side  before  he  decides  so  weighty  a 
matter." 

The  marquise  was  shrewd,  and  did  not  err  in  her  specula- 
tions :  Louis  had  indeed  forgotten  her  presence.  His  heart 
was  full  of  covetousness  and  resentment  at  the  opposition  of 
that  presuming  Leopold,  who  penetrated  his  designs  upon 
the  Ehenish  provinces  of  the  empire,  and  he  thirsted  for  venge- 
ance. 

"  Yes,"  replied  he,  "  I  have  given  an  example  of  forbearance 
which  must  have  astonished  all  Europe.  I  would  have  been 
glad  to  settle  our  differences  in  a  Christian-like  manner  ;  but 
Leopold  is  deaf  to  all  reason  and  justice — " 

At  this  moment  the  king's  voice  was  rendered  inaudible  by 
a  loud  cough  which  proceeded  from  the  window  wherein  the 
marquise  had  retired  from  observation. 

"  My  dear  FranQoise,"  exclaimed  Louis,  "  come  and  take 
your  part  in  this  important  council  of  war." 

The  hangings  were  parted,  and  out  she  stepped ;  slightly 
acknowledging  the  salute  of  the  minister,  she  passed  him  by, 
and  took  an  arm-chair  at  the  side  of  the  king. 

"You  have  heard  us  discussing,  have  you  not?"  asked 
Louis. 

"Yes,  sire,"  sighed  she,  "I  have  heard  every  thing." 

"  Then  you  understand  that  it  concerns  my  honor  to  make 
war  upon  Germany  ? " 

The  marquise  turned  her  flashing  eyes  upon  the  one  that 
held  this  royal  honor  in  his  keeping.  "  Sire,"  said  she,  "  I 
am  slow  of  comprehension  ;  for  it  has  just  occurred  to  me 
that  (your  majesty's  criticism  'upon  a  window  at  Trianon  is 
to  be  productive  of  results  most  disastrous  to  the  French  na- 
tion." 

"  This  criticism  concerns  nobody  but  Mansard,"  observed 
Lou  vols,  carelessly.  "  I  am  no  longer  superintendent  of  the 
royal  edifices." 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,  madame,"  interposed  the  king. 
"  What  has  a  window  at  Trianon  to  do  with  the  affairs  of 


THE  WINDOW  THAT  WAS  TOO  LARGE.  413 

the  nation  ?  Pray  let  us  be  serious,  and  come  to  a  determina- 
tion." 

''  Sire,"  asked  the  marquise,  "  is  not  this  matter  already  de- 
termined ? " 

The  king  kissed  her  hand.  "  It  is — and  your  inquiry  is  a 
new  proof  of  your  penetration.  How  truly  you  sympathize 
with  my  emotions  !  How  clearly  you  read  the  pages  of  my 
heart !    Yes,  dear  marquise,  war  is  inevitable." 

"  Then  our  days  of  happiness  are  at  an  end,"  returned  she, 
sadly  \  "  and  your  majesty's  heart  will  descend  from  the  con- 
templation of  heavenly  things,  to  thoughts  of  strife  and  cruel 
bloodshed." 

"  The  war  is  a  holy  one,"  interrupted  Louvois,  "  and  God 
Himself  holds  a  monarch  responsible  for  the  honor  of  his  peo- 
ple." 

"Well  spoken,  Louvois,"  replied  the  king,  approvingly. 
"  The  cause  is  just,  and  the  Lord  of  hosts  will  battle  for  us. 
You,  marquise,  will  be  our  intercessor  with  Heaven." 

"  But  your  majesty  will  not  be  nigh  to  pray  with  me,"  said 
the  marquise,  in  regretful  tones. 

The  king  made  no  reply  to  this  affectionate  challenge  ;  he 
continued  to  speak  with  Louvois,  enjoining  upon  him  to  has- 
ten his  preparations. 

"  Sire,  my  plans  are  laid,"  replied  Louvois. 

"  Already  I "  cried  Louis,  joyfully. 

"  Already  I "  echoed  De  Maintenon,  affrighted. 

"  Sire,"  continued  Louvois,  "  as  soon  as  your  majesty  has 
approved  my  plan,  the  couriers,  who  are  waiting  without,  will 
transfer  your  royal  commands  to  the  array.  It  is  my  design 
to  march  at  once  upon  the  Rhenish  provinces,  and  to  take  pos- 
session of  the  Palatinate." 

'*  Qood  !  but  will  our  army  be  strong  enough  to  fight  the 
emperor  and  the  Germanic  confederation  at  once  ? " 

"Sire,  the  emperor  shall  have  occupation  elsewhere, 
and  the  princes  of  the  empire  must  be  terrified  into  submis- 
sion." 

"But  how,  now?" 

"  Both  ends  may  be  reached  by  one  stroke.  The  Rhenish 
provinces,  Alsatia,  and  the  Palatinate,  must  be  transformed 


4:14:  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

into  a  waste.  We  must  wage  against  Germany  a  war  of  de- 
struction, whose  fearful  consequences  will  be  felt  there  for  a 
century  to  come." 

"  Oh,  sire,"  exclaimed  De  Maintenon,  such  a  war  is  contrary 
to  the  laws  of  God  and  man  !  Shall  France,  the  most  refined 
country  on  the  globe,  set  to  civilized  Europe  an  example  of 
barbarity  only  to  be  equalled  by  the  atrocities  of  the  Huns  and 
Vandals  ? " 

'•  My  dear  marquise,"  cried  Louis,  fretfully,  "  do  be  silent. 
— Go  on,  Louvois,  and  let  me  hear  your  plans." 

"  Sire,  they  are  very  simple.  We  have  only  to  march  on 
the  German  towns,  sack  and  bum  them,  and  put  to  the  sword 
all  those  that  presume  to  defy  the  power  of  France.  We  must 
spread  consternation  throughout  all  Germany,  that  your 
majesty's  name  may  cause  every  cheek  to  pale,  and  every 
heart  to  sink  with  fear.  The  enemy  shall  provision  our  army, 
and  forage  our  horses.  We  will  take  possession  of  their 
magazines,  stores,  and  shambles  ;  and  to  every  house  that  re- 
fuses us  gold,  we  will  apply  the  devouring  torch.  Thus  we 
will  make  it  impossible  for  the  emperor  to  advance  to  Lor- 
raine ;  and  the  wide  desert  that  intervenes  between  us  will  be- 
come French  territory." 

"  I  approve  your  mode  of  warfare,  Louvois  ;  it  is  good.  If 
the  emperor  had  ratified  my  choice  of  an  Elector  of  Cologne, 
and  had  sustained  my  claims  to  Lorraine  and  Alsatia,  I  would 
have  conceded  him  as  many  triumphs  as  he  chose  in  Transyl- 
vania. As  he  opposes  me,  let  him  take  the  consequence — war 
with  all  its  horrors  ! " 

"Your  majesty  empowers  me,  then,  to  dispatch  my  coU' 
riers  ? "  said  Louvois. 

"  I  do,  my  dear  marquis,"  was  the  gracious  reply,  while  the 
royal  hand  was  held  out  to  be  kissed. 

Louvois  pressed  it  to  his  lips,  as  a  lover  does  the  rosy  fingers 
of  his  mistress,  and,  hastening  away  with  the  agility  of  a  young 
mian,  sprang  into  his  carriage,  and  drove  off.  " '  My  dear  mar- 
quis,'" murmured  he,  with  a  smile  of  complacency.  "He 
called  me  his  dear  marquis,  and  the  storm  of  his  displeasure 
has  passed  away.  I  came  very  near  being  struck  by  its  light- 
ning, nevertheless.     That  De  Maintenon  is  a  shrewd  woman, 


THE  IMPERIAL  DIET  AT  REGENSBURG.  415 

and  found  me  out  at  once.  Yes  ! — yes,  your  majesty  !  Had 
you  admired  my  window  at  Trianon,  I  should  not  have  been 
obliged  to  involve  you  in  a  war  with  Grermany." 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  IMPERIAL  DIET  AT  REGENSBURG. 

In  1687  the  imperial  Diet  assembled  at  Regensburg,  to  ex- 
amine the  claims  of  the  King  of  France  to  Alsatia,  Lorraine, 
the  Palatinate,  and  other  possessions,  which  his  majesty  longed 
to  appropriate  out  of  the  domains  of  his  neighbors. 

On  the  2d  of  October,  1689,  a  travelling- carriage  might  have 
been  seen  standing  in  front  of  the  large,  antiquated  building 
occupied  by  Count  Spaur,  the  envoy  of  the  Emperor  Leopold. 

The  postilion  sounded  his  horn,  and  cracked  his  whip  with 
such  vehemence,  that  here  and  there  an  inquiring  and  angry 
face  might  be  seen  at  the  neighboring  windows,  peering  out 
upon  the  untimely  intruders,  who  were  making  dawn  hideous 
by  their  clattering  arrival.  The  footman  sprang  from  his 
board,  and  thundered  with  all  his  might  at  the  door,  while, 
between  each  interval  of  knocking,  the  postilion  accom- 
panied him  by  a  fanfare  that  stirred  up  the  sleeping  echoes 
of  that  dull  old  town  in  a  manner  that  was  astonishing  to 
hear. 

Finally,  their  zeal  was  rewarded  by  the  appearance  of  a 
roan's  head  at  the  window  on  the  ground  floor,  and  the  sound 
of  his  voice  inquiring  who  it  was  that  was  making  all  this  up- 
roar. 

*'  Who  we  are  ? "  echoed  the  footman.  "  We  are  individuals 
entitled  to  make  an  uproar,  and  shall  continue  to  make  it  until 
we  obtain  admission  to  the  presence  of  Count  Spaur  for  his 
excellency  Count  von  Crenneville,  who  comes  on  important 
business  from  his  imperial  majesty  the  emperor." 

This  pompous  announcement  had  the  desired  effect ;  it 
awed  the  porter  into  civility,  and  he  hastened  to  inform  the 
footman  of  his  excellency,  that  Count  Spaur  being  in  bed,  he 


4:16  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

would  inform  the  valet,  and  have  the  Austrian  ambassador  ap- 
prised of  the  visit  of  Count  von  Crenneville. 

''  Open  your  door  before  you  go,  and  admit  his  excellency 
into  the  house,"  cried  the  footman,  imperiously. 

"  I  dare  not,"  replied  the  porter,  shaking  his  head.  "  I  am 
not  at  liberty  to  admit  anybody,  until  I  have  orders  to  do  so 
from  the  valet  of  Count  Spaur." 

"Not  admit  the  emperor's  envoy?"  exclaimed  the  indig- 
nant lackey.     " That  is  an  affront  to  his  excellency." 

"  I  do  not  know  the  person  of  his  excellency,"  persisted  the 
porter,  "  and  how  do  I  know  but  some  petty  ducal  envoy  may 
not  be  playing  a  trick  on  me,  and  so  obtain  fraudulent  en- 
trance to  the  house  of  the  Austrian  ambassador  ? " 

"You  presume  to  apply  such  language  to  Count  von 
Crenneville  ! "  cried  the  footman.     "  I  shall — " 

"  Peace,  Caspar  ! "  said  a  voice  from  the  carriage  ;  "  the 
honest  fellow  is  quite  right,  and  deserves  no  blame  for  his 
prudence.  Nevertheless,  as  we  are  no  impostors,  hasten,  my 
good  friend,  to  the  valet,  and  let  me  have  entrance,  for  I  am 
very  tired." 

At  this  moment  the  porter  was  put  aside,  and  a  man  in  rich 
livery  came  forward. 

"  Count  Spaur  has  risen,  and  will  be  happy  to  receive  his 
excellency  Count  von  Crenneville,"  said  he.  At  these  magical 
words  the  heavy  doors  were  opened,  and  the  envoy  sprang 
lightly  from  his  carriage,  and  entered  the  house.  At  the  head 
of  the  staircase  he  was  met  by  Count  Spaur,  who  apologized 
for  being  compelled  to  receive  his  guest  in  a  dressing-gown. 

"  It  would  not  be  the  first  time  that  I  have  seen  you  in  a 
deshabille,  my  dear  comrade,"  replied  Von  Crenneville,  "  for 
you  cannot  have  forgotten  the  old  days  when  we  were  quar- 
tered together  in  Hungary.  As  I  presume  you  have  not  break- 
fasted, I  will  take  the  liberty  of  inviting  myself  to  breakfast, 
for  I  am  hungry  and  exhausted  by  travelling  all  night." 

Count  Spaur  offered  his  arm,  and  conducted  his  guest  to 
the  dining-room,  where  breakfast  was  about  to  be  served. 

Count  von  Crenneville  threw  aside  his  military  cloak,  un- 
fastened a  few  buttons  of  his  uniform,  and  took  his  seat  at  the 
table. 


THE  IMPERIAL  DIET  AT  REGENSBURG.  417 

"  I  am  delighted  to  see  you,"  said  Count  Spaur,  handing  a 
cup  of  chocolate.  "  Your  arrival  is  a  delicious  interruption  to 
the  stupid  life  I  had  in  Regensburg." 

When  they  had  breakfasted,  Count  Spaur  led  the  way  to 
his  cabinet,  and  the  conference  began  by  Count  von  Crenne- 
ville  handing  a  packet  to  his  friend  from  the  emperor. 

The  latter  received  it  with  a  profound  inclination,  and  care- 
fully cutting  it,  so  as  to  avoid  breaking  the  seal,  he  opened  it, 
and  prepared  to  make  himself  master  of  its  contents. 

He  shook  his  head  dolefully.  "  His  majesty  asks  impossi- 
bilities of  me,"  sighed  he.  *'  Do  you  know  what  this  letter 
contains  ? " 

"Be  so  kind  as  to  read  it  to  me." 

So  Count  Spaur  began  :  "  My  dear  Count, — It  is  time  this 
imperial  Diet  end  their  petty  quarrels,  and  go  seriously  to 
work  ;  for  these  ai*e  no  days  wherein  important  interests  may 
be  neglected  for  the  sake  of  etiquette.  Announce  to  the  Diet 
that  I  require  of  them  to  be  serious,  and  to  come  to  the  assist- 
ance of  their  fatherland.  Count  von  Crenneville,  who  will 
deliver  this  to  you,  is  empowered  to  declare  the  same  to  the 
assembled  representatives  of  the  Grermanic  Confederation. 

(Signed)  "Leopold,  Emperor." 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  the  demand  is  a  reasonable  one,"  re- 
marked Count  von  Crenneville. 

"  But  impossible  of  compliance.  Do  you  know  how  long  the 
Diet  has  been  sitting  at  Regensburg  ? " 

**Two  years,  I  believe." 

"  Well :  do  you  know  what  they  have  been  doing  for  these 
two  years  ? " 

"  No,  count ;  it  is  precisely  to  learn  this  that  his  majesty 
has  sent  me  here,"  said  Von  Crenneville. 

"  I  will  tell  you  then.  They  have  been  profoundly  engaged 
in  settling  questions  of  diplomatic  etiquette.  You  may  laugh, 
if  you  like  ;  but  for  one  that  has  been  obliged  to  hear  it  all,  it 
is  wearisome  beyond  expression.  The  first  trouble  arose  from 
the  etiquette  of  visiting.  As  imperiaJ  envoy,  I  received  the 
first  visit  from  them  all,  I  returned  my  calls,  and  so  far  all  was 
well.  But  when  the  other  envoys  were  to  visit  among  them- 
selves, the  dissensions  began.    Each  man  wrote  to  his  sover- 


418  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

eigD,  and  each  sovereign  upheld  his  man  ;  couriers  came  and 
went,  and  for  a  time  Regensburg  was  alive  with  arrivals  and 
departures." 

"  And  meanwhile  the  King  of  France  was  allowed  to  build 
his  bridges  across  the  Rhine,"  observed  Count  von  Crenne- 
ville. 

"  My  dear  friend,  the  King  of  France  might  have  dethroned 
the  emperor,  meanwhile,  without  a  protest.  Nothing  under 
heaven  could  be  attended  to,  while  this  visiting  question  was 
on  the  tapis." 

"Is  it  decided?" 

"  After  three  months  of  daily  conferences,  during  which  I 
exhausted  more  statesmanship  than  would  overturn  an  empire, 
it  was  decided  that  the  envoys  of  the  princes  would  call  on  the 
envoys  of  the  electors,  provided  the  latter  would  come  half 
way  down  the  staircase  to  meet  the  former." 

"  God  be  thanked  !    They  could  then  proceed  to  business  ! " 

Count  Spaur  replied  by  a  melancholy  shake  of  the  head. 

"  You  are  not  aware  that,  before  the  Diet  assemble,  a  ban- 
quet is  given,  at  which  all  are  expected  to  be  present.  You 
are  furthermore  not  cognizant  of  the  fact  that  every  concomi- 
tant of  this  banquet  has  been  made  a  subject  of  strife,  from 
the  day  on  which  the  visiting  question  was  arranged,  until 
the  present  time." 

"  My  dear  count,  I  pity  you." 

"  You  may  well  do  so.  The  electoral  envoys  claimed  the 
right  of  using  gold  knives  and  forks,  while  they  exacted  that 
the  ducal  representatives  should  be  content  with  silver.  These 
latter  resented  the  indignity,  and  of  course  the  banquet  had  to 
be  postponed." 

"  This  is  pitiful  indeed  ;  but  go  on." 

"  Then  came  the  question  of  the  color  of  the  arm-chairs 
around  the  table.  The  electoral  envoys  claimed  the  right  of 
having  their  seats  covered  in  red  ;  and  contended  that  the 
others  were  obliged  by  etiquette  to  cover  theirs  with  green. 
The  others  would  not  accept  the  green,  and  so  arose  the  third 
point  of  discussion.  The  fourth  disagreement  was  about  the 
carpets.  The  electorals  would  have  the  four  legs  of  their 
chairs  on  the  carpet  (which  is  narrow),  and  the  others  should 


THE  IMPERIAL  DIET  AT  REGENSBURG.  419 

have  but  the  /ore-legs  of  theirs.  The  fifth  regarded  the  May- 
bougns.  On  May-day,  the  electorals  exacted  that  the  superm- 
tendent  of  public  festivities  should  put  six  boughs  over  their 
front  doors,  while  the  others  must  content  themselves  with 
five.  Now,  my  dear  count,  you  are  made  acquainted  with  the 
subjects  of  discussion  which  for  two  years  have  detained  the 
imperial  Diet  in  Regensburg  ;  which  have  imbittered  my  days, 
and  made  sleepless  my  nights  ;  which  have  nigh  lost  the  cause 
of  German  nationality,  and  have  made  us  the  laughing-stock 
of  all  Europe." 

"My  friend,  I  sympathize  with  you.— But  are  these  five 
questions  not  decided  ? " 

''  No,  they  are  not.  The  ducal  envoys  indignantly  refused 
to  yield  to  the  pretensions  of  their  colleagues,  and  no  banquet 
could  be  given.  After  much  exertion  on  my  part  to  bring 
about  an  understanding,  the  banquet  was  set  aside,  and  a  com- 
promise was  effected.  All  the  arm-chairs  were  covered  with 
green — this  was  a  concession  to  the  ducal  envoys  ;  while  they. 
on  their  part,  consented  that  the  hind-legs  of  their  chairs 
should  rest  on  the  bare  floor  I "  * 

**  What  a  victory  I  I  congratulate  you  from  my  heart ; 
for  I  would  much  rather  have  charged  a  regiment  of  Jani- 
zaries." 

*'  And  at  least  have  earned  some  glory  thereby,"  returned 
Spaur,  grimly.  "  But  the  only  reward  I  shall  ever  reap  will 
be  the  unpleasant  notoriety  I  shall  have  acquired  as  a  member 
of  this  stultified  assembly." 

"  My  dear  friend,  be  under  no  uneasiness  as  to  that.  The 
King  of  France  has  crossed  our  frontiers,  and  you  are  about 
to  throw  aside  diplomacy  and  take  up  the  sword.  This  is  the 
message  with  which  the  emperor  has  charged  me,  both  to 
yourself  and  to  the  imperial  Diet." 

"  I  am  happy  to  tell  you  that  to-day  the  Diet  opens  ite  sit- 
ting. Hark  I  the  bells  are  ringing  I  This  announces  to  Be* 
gensburg  that  the  envoys  are  about  to  proceed  to  the  hall  of 
conference.    Excuse  me  while  I  retire  to  change  my  dress." 

"  I  will  betake  myself  to  the  nearest  hotel  to  follow  your 
example,"  replied  Von  Crenneville. 

*  Patter^  **  Huttorical  Note*  on  the  Constitution  of  the  0«rm«n  Empire." 


420  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

*'  By  no  means.  Your  room  is  prepared,  and  I  will  conduct 
you  thither  at  once,  if  you  wish." 

Fifteen  or  twenty  minutes  elapsed,  when  the  two  imperial 
envoys  met  again,  and  drove,  in  the  state-carriage  of  Count 
Spaur,  to  the  hall  of  conference.  The  other  envoys  were  all 
assembled,  and,  scattered  in  groups,  seemed  to  be  earnestly  en- 
gaged in  discussing  some  weighty  matter. 

Count  Spaur  remarked  this,  and  whispered  to  his  col- 
league :  "  I  am  afraid  there  is  trouble  brewing  ;  the  electo- 
ral envoys  are  all  on  one  side  of  the  hall — the  ducal  on  the 
other." 

"The  electorals  are  those  with  the  red  cloaks — are  they 
not  ? " 

"  Yes,  they  are  ;  and  I  fear  that  these  red  cloaks  signify 
war." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ? " 

"  I  mean  war  with — ^but,  pardon  me,  I  see  that  they  are 
waiting  for  me  to  open  the  council." 

With  an  inclination  of  the  head,  Count  Spaur  passed  down 
the  hall,  and  took  his  seat  under  the  red  canopy  appropriated 
to  the  imperial  ambassador.  A  deep  silence  reigned  through- 
out the  assembly,  broken  by  the  sweet  chime  of  the  bells  that 
still  continued  to  convey  far  and  wide  the  intelligence  of  the 
opening  of  the  conference. 

Count  Spaur  took  off  his  Spanish  hat,  and,  bowing  right 
and  left,  addressed  the  envoys  : 

"  My  lords  ambassadors  of  the  electors,  princes,  and  impe- 
rial cities  of  the  German  empire,  in  the  name  of  his  majesty 
Leopold  I  greet  you,  and  announce  that  the  imperial  Diet 
is  opened.    Long  live  the  emperor  1 " 

"  Long  live  the  emperor  ! "  echoed  the  ambassadors. 

"  The  Diet  is  opened,"  resumed  he,  "  and  I  have  the  honor 
to  introduce  an  envoy  of  his  imperial  majesty,  who  has  this 
day  arrived  from  Vienna." 

At  this.  Count  von  Crenneville  advanced,  and  the  master 
of  ceremonies  placed  an  arm-chair  for  him  under  the  canopy, 
at  the  side  of  Count  Spaur. 

At  a  signal  from  the  latter,  the  other  envoys  took  their 
seats,  and  Count  von  Crenneville  addressed  the  assembly  : 


THE  IMPERIAL  DIET  AT  REGENSBURG.  421 

"  My  lords  ambassadors  of  the  electors,  princes,  and  impe- 
rial cities  of  the  Grerman  empire,  his  majesty  greets  you  all. 
But  he  is  deeply  wounded  at  the  indifference  manifested  by 
the  Diet  to  the  dearest  interests  of  Germany,  and  he  implores 
you,  as  you  value  your  nationality  and  liberty,  to  lay  aside 
your  petty  dissensions,  and  to  unite  with  him  in  defence 
of  your  fatherland.  The  King  of  France  has  marched  his 
armies  into  Germany — and  disunion  to  Germans  is  defeat  and 
ruin." 

This  prelude  appeared  to  cause  considerable  emotion.  There 
was  visible  agitation  throughout  the  assembly. 

Count  von  Crenneville  felt  encouraged,  and  was  about  to 
continue  his  appeal,  when  one  of  the  electorals  started  from 
his  seat  and  spoke  : 

'*  I  beg  pardon  of  the  imperial  envoy  ;  but  I  must  ask  per- 
mission of  the  imperial  representative-resident  to  make  a  per- 
sonal remark." 

"The  permission  is  granted,"  replied  CJoiint  Spaur,  sol- 
emnly. 

The  envoy  then  continued,  in  loud  and  agitated  tones  :  "  I 
must,  then,  call  the  attention  of  this  august  assembly  to  a  fla- 
grant violation  of  the  compact  agreed  between  the  first  and 
second  class  of  these  ambassadors,  by  the  latter.  They  have 
advanced  their  arm-chairs  until  the  four  legs  of  the  same  are 
now  resting  upon  the  csirpeV^ 

"  We  merely  advanced  our  seats,  to  hear  what  his  excel- 
lency had  to  say,"  remarked  the  envoy  from  Bremen. 

"  Nevertheless,"  replied  Count  Spaur,  "  I  must  request  these 
gentlemen  to  recede.  The  understanding  was,  that  their 
chairs  were  to  rest  partly  on  the  carpet,  partly  on  the  floor." 

Back  went  all  the  chairs,  but  their  occupants  looked  dag- 
gers at  the  envoy  from  Mentz. 

Count  von  Crenneville  then  resumed  the  broken  thread  of 
his  discourse  :  "  I  earnestly  request  the  assembly  to  come  to  a 
decision  this  very  day.  The  country  is  in  imminent  danger, 
and  can  only  be  saved  by  unanimity  and  promptitude  of  ac- 
tion." 

Here  he  was  interrupted  by  the  envoy  from  Bremen,  who 
itjse  and  begged  to  be  allowed  to  make  his  personal  remark. 


422  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

Count  Spaur  gave  the  required  permission,  and  Bremen  be- 
gan to  protest  against  Mentz  &  Co. 

"  I  beg  to  remark,  that  the  electoral  envoys  have  spread  out 
their  red  cloaks  over  the  backs  of  the  chairs,  in  such  a  way  as 
to  conceal  the  green  covering  entirely  from  view." 

"  It  is  exceedingly  warm  in  the  hall,"  replied  electoral  Co- 
logne ;  ''  we  were  compelled  to  throw  off  our  cloaks." 

"  Why,  then,  did  the  electoral  envoys  wear  their  cloaks  ? " 
was  the  inquiry  of  the  other  side. 

"  Because  we  had  a  right  to  wear  them  hither,  and  violate 
no  compact  by  throwing  them  over  our  chairs." 

"  But  the  electoral  envoys  had  no  right  to  use  them  as  up- 
holstery," objected  Bremen,  in  tragic  tones.  "  They  have  now 
the  appearance  of  being  seated  on  red  arm-chairs." 

"  So  much  the  better,"  replied  Cologne.  "  If  accident  has 
re-established  our  rights  of  precedence,  nobody  has  any  busi- 
ness to  complain."  * 

This  declaration  was  received  with  a  burst  of  indignation, 
and  the  princely  envoys  rose  simultaneously  from  their  seats. 
A  noisy  and  angry  debate  ensued,  at  the  conclusion  of  which 
the  offended  party  declared  that  they  would  rest  every  leg  of 
their  chairs  upon  the  carpet ;  and,  as  if  at  the  word  of  com- 
mand, every  man  dragged  his  arm-chair  most  unequivocally 
forward,  and  surveyed  the  enemy  with  dogged  defiance. 

There  was  now  a  commotion  on  the  side  of  the  electorals, 
in  the  midst  of  which  Count  Spaur,  in  perfect  despair,  cried 
out  at  the  top  of  his  voice  : 

"  In  the  name  of  the  emperor,  I  demand,  on  both  sides,  the 
literal  fulfilment  of  your  conditions.  The  electoral  ambassa- 
dors must  withdraw  their  red  cloaks  from  the  backs  of  their 
chairs,  and  throw  them  over  the  arms,  and  the  other  envoys 
must  draw  back  their  chairs  until  the  hind-legs  thereof  are  on 
the  floor." 

"  My  lords,"  added  Count  von  Crenneville,  "  I  demand  also, 
in  the  name  of  the  emperor,  that  all  personalities  be  cast  aside, 
and  that  we  give  our  hearts  to  our  country's  cause.  France  is 
upon  us.  She  knows  how  disunited  are  the  princes  of  Ger- 
many, and  their  discord  is  her  sheet-anchor.     She  knows  that 

*  Historical. — See  Putter. 


THE  IMPERIAL  DIET  AT  REGENSBURG.  423 

you  are  unprepared  to  meet  her,  and  the  emperor,  being  at 
present  too  fai*  to  come  to  your  rescue,  she  will  attack  you  be- 
fore you  have  time  to  defend  yourselves.  Is  it  possible  that 
you  have  sunk  all  patriotism  in  contemptible  jealousies  of  one 
another  ?  I  cannot  believe  it !  Away  with  petty  rivalry  and 
family  dissensions  :  clasp  hands  and  make  ready  to  defend  our 
fatherland!" 

At  this  moment  there  was  a  knock  at  the  main  entrance  of 
the  hall,  and  two  masters  of  ceremonies  appeared. 

"  I  announce  to  the  imperial  commissaries,  and  the  envoys 
of  the  Grerman  empire  here  assembled,  that  a  messenger,  with 
important  tidings,  requests  admission  to  this  illustrious  com- 
pany." 

**  Whence  comes  he  ? "  asked  Count  Spaur. 

"  He  announces  himself  as  Count  de  Crecy,  ambassador  ex- 
traordinary of  the  King  of  France  to  the  imperial  Diet." 

This  communication  was  received  in  profound  silence. 
Dismay  was  pictured  on  many  a  face,  and  every  eye  was 
turned  upon  the  presiding  envoy,  the  representative  of  the 
emperor. 

"  I  lay  it  before  the  imperial  Diet,"  said  he,  at  last,  "  whether 
the  French  ambassador  shall  be  allowed  entrance  into  the  hall 
during  the  sitting  of  its  members." 

"  Ay,  ay,  let  him  enter,"  was  the  reply — the  first  instance 
of  unanimity  among  the  envoys  since  the  day  they  had  ar- 
rived at  Regensburg  two  years  before  I 

The  masters  of  ceremonies  retired,  and  Count  Spaur,  put- 
ting on  his  hat,  said  :  "  I  declare  this  sitting  suspended.  My 
lords,  cover  your  heads  I  " 

The  French  ambassador,  followed  by  a  numerous  retinue, 
now  entered  the  hall.  He  advanced  to  the  canopy  where  the 
imperial  envoys  were  seated,  and  inclined  his  head.  Not  a 
word  was  spoken  in  return  for  his  salutation  ;  and,  after  a 
short  pause,  he  raised  his  voice,  and  delivered  his  message  : 

*'In  the  name  of  his  most  Christian  majesty,  Louis  XIV., 
King  of  France,  I  announce  to  the  Diet  of  the  German  empire 
that  he  has  taken  posseflrion  of  Bonn,  Kaiserswerth,  and  other 
strongholds  of  the  archbishopric  of  Cologne  ;  that  Mentz  has 
opened  her  doors  to  his  victorious  armies,  and  that  war  is  de- 
23 


424  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

clared  between  France  and  Germany.  The  sword  is  drawn, 
nor  shall  it  return  to  its  scabbard  until  the  inheritance  of  the 
Duchess  of  Orleans  is  given  up  to  France,  and  the  King  of 
France  is  recognized  as  lord  and  sovereign  of  Lorraine,  Alsatia, 
and  the  Netherlands  I    War  is  declared  I  " 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  JUDITH  OF  ESSLINGKN. 

It  was  a  clear,  bright  morning  in  March.  The  snow  had 
long  since  melted  from  the  mountain-tops,  flowers  had  begun 
to  peep  out  of  the  earth's  bosom,  and  the  trees  that  grew  upon 
the  heights  around  Esslingen  were  defied  with  buds  of  tender 
green. 

But  the  inhabitants  of  Esslingen  had  no  pleasure  in  con- 
templating those  verdant  hills  ;  for  the  castle  that  crowned 
their  summit  was  in  possession  of  the  French.  Within  its 
walls  the  enemy  were  feasting  and  drinking,  while  the  owners 
of  the  soil,  plundered  of  all  they  possessed,  had  naught  left  to 
them  on  earth  save  the  cold,  bare  boards  of  their  homes,  where- 
in, a  few  weeks  before,  peace  and  plenty  had  reigned. 

On  the  2d  of  March,  1689,  the  French  reduced  the  castle  of 
Heidelberg  to  a  heap  of  ashes,  and  for  more  than  a  century  its 
bleak  ruins  kept  alive  the  hatred  of  Germany  toward  their 
relentless  enemies. 

God  had  permitted  them  to  spread  desolation  over  the  land. 
He  had  withdrawn  His  help  from  the  innocent,  and  had  suf- 
fered the  wicked  to  triumph.  After  plundering  their  houses 
of  every  necessary  of  life,  General  Melac  now^  required  of  them 
tribute  in  the  shape  of  twenty  thousand  florins.  To  raise  one- 
fourth  of  the  sum  was  an  impossibility  in  Esslingen  ;  and  the 
burghers  of  the  town  had  gone  in  a  body  to  the  castle  to  beg 
for  mercy. 

Two  hours  had  elapsed  since  they  had  departed  on  their 
dangerous  mission,  and  the  people,  with  throbbing  hearts, 
awaited  their  return.    Up  to  this  day,  they  had  mourned  and 


THE  JUDITH  OF  ESSLINGEN.  425 

wept  in  the  solitude  of  their  plundered  homes ;  hut  in  this 
hour  of  mortal  suspense,  they  had  instinctively  sought  com- 
panionship ;  and  now  the  market-place,  in  whose  centre  was 
the  ancient  town-hall,  was  thronged  with  men,  women,  and 
children,  of  every  degree.  Misfortune  had  levelled  all  dis- 
tinctions of  i-ank,  and  the  common  danger  had  cemented 
thousands  of  human  beings  into  one  stricken  and  terrified 
family. 

They  stood,  their  anxious  looks  fixed  upon  the  winding 
path  which  led  to  the  castle,  while  all  around  at  the  open  win- 
dows pale-faced  women  hoped  and  feared  by  turns,  as  they  saw 
light  or  shadow  upon  the  faces  of  the  multitude  below. 

Just  opposite  the  council-hall  was  a  house  of  dark-gray 
stone,  with  a  bow-window  and  a  richly -fretted  gable.  At  the 
window  stood  two  persons  ;  one  a  woman  whose  head  was  en- 
veloped in  a  black  veil  which  set  off  the  extreme  paleness  of 
her  face,  and  fell  in  long  folds  around  her  person.  Near  her 
stood  a  young  girl  similarly  attired  ;  but,  instead  of  the  hair 
just  tinged  with  gray,  which  lay  in  smooth  bands  across  the 
forehead  of  her  companion,  her  golden  curls,  stirred  by  the 
breeze,  encircled  her  young  head  like  a  halo,  and  the  veil  that 
fluttered  lightly  around  her  graceful  person  lay  like  a  misty 
cloud  about  a  face  as  beautiful  in  color  as  it  was  in  feature. 
Spite  of  suffering  and  privation,  the  brow  was  smooth  and 
fair,  the  cheeks  were  tinged  with  rose,  and  the  lips  were  scarlet 
as  autumn  berries.  She,  like  the  rest,  had  endured  hunger  and 
cold  ;  but  youth  is  warmed  and  nourished  by  Hope,  and  the 
tears  that  dim  a  maiden's  eyes  are  but  dew-drops  glittering 
upon  a  beautiful  rose. 

Her  face  was  serious  and  anxious,  but  her  large  black  eyes 
flashed  with  expectation,  and  the  parted  lips  showed  that  hope 
was  stronger  than  fear  in  her  young  heart.  Marie  was  the 
only  child  of  the  chief  burgomaster  of  Elsslingen,  and  the  lady 
at  her  side  was  his  honored  wife. 

**Do  you  see  nothing,  my  child?"  said  the  mother. 
*'  Great  Gk>d  1  this  suspense  is  worse  than  death  I  Your  father 
expected  to  be  back  within  an  hour,  and  more  than  two  hours 
have  gone  by  I " 

The  young  girl  strained  her  eyes,  and  looked  up  the  castle- 


426  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

road,  which  was  just  opposite  the  house.     "  Mother,"  said  she, 
"I  see  something  dark  issuing  from  the  gates." 

"  Oh,  look  again  !    Ts  it  they  ? " 

"  Yes  ;  I  think  so,  dear  mother.  I  see  them  advancing  :  it 
must  be  father  and  the  deputies.  Now  I  begin  to  distinguish 
one  from  the  other.  There  are  one— two— three.  Great  God, 
mother  !  were  there  not  seven  ?    I  see  but  six  ! " 

"Yes— seven.  Your  father,  two  burgomasters,  and  four 
senators.     Are  you  sure  ?    Look — count  once  more." 

"  I  see  them  distinctly  now  :  there  are  six.  They  will  be 
hidden  presently  by  the  winding  of  the  road  ;  but  I  see  them 
each  one  as  he  turns  aside." 

"  And  there  are  but  six  !  One  of  them  is  missing  !  Oh, 
merciful  Father,  which  of  them  can  it  be  ? " 

"  I  see  them  no  longer.  Alas  !  they  are  too  far  for  recogni- 
tion, and  we  must  wait.    Oh,  mother,  how  my  heart  pains  me  ! " 

"  Let  us  pray,  my  darling,"  returned  the  mother,  clasping 
her  daughter's  trembling  hands. 

"  Dear  mother,  I  cannot !  I  am  too  miserable  to  pray.  If 
Caspar  were  but  here,  I  should  feel  less  wretched." 

"  And  yei,  as  a  soldier  of  the  imperial  army,  he  is  in  less 
danger  than  he  would  be,  as  a  civilian  of  Esslingen.  I  thank 
Heaven,  dear  Marie,  that  your  betrothed  is  not  here.  At  least 
he  fights  face  to  face,  with  arms  in  hand  ;  while  we — oh,  what 
•weapon  can  avail  against  midnight  murder  and  incendia- 
rism?" 

"  And  yet,"  sighed  Marie,  "  I  would  he  were  here  to  protect 
me  I" 

"  He  would  not  be  allowed  to  protect  you,  for,  had  he  seen 
the  familiarity  of  that  despot  yesterday,  he  would  in  all  prob- 
ability have  lost  his  life  in  your  defence." 

"  I  had  not  thought  of  that,  I  had  only  yearned  for  his  pro- 
tecting arm.  Yes,  mother,  he  would  have  done  some  desperate 
deed  had  he  seen  the  blood-stained  hand  of  that  accursed 
Frenchman  when  it  touched  my  cheek,  and  heard  his  insolent 
tones  as  he  asked  whether  its  roses  were  colored  by  nature  or 
art.  Oh,  mother,  what  a  misfortune  for  us  that  we  were  on 
the  street  when  he  arrived  ! " 

Mother  and  daughter  now  relapsed  into  silence,  for  the 


THE  JUDITH  OF  ESSLINGEN.  427 

deputies,  their  heads  despondingly  held  down,  were  to  be  seen 
making  their  way  through  the  crowd.  Frau  Wengelin  could 
not  articulate  the  words  she  longed  to  speak  ;  but  Marie,  clasp- 
ing her  hands  in  agony,  cried  out : 

"  He  is  not  there  !    My  father  is  missing  ! " 

With  one  faint  shriek,  her  mother  fell  senseless  to  the  floor, 
while  Marie,  dartiDg  out  of  the  house,  made  her  way  through 
the  throng  to  the  market-place,  and  overtook  the  deputies  as 
they  were  ascending  the  steps  that  led  to  the  hall  of  council. 
Grasping  the  arm  of  the  first  she  encountered,  she  looked 
wildly  into  his  eyes,  while  her  quivering  lips  vainly  tried  to 
murmur,  '*  Where  is  my  father  ? " 

The  old  man  understood  those  pleading  looks,  and  answered 
them  with  tears. 

"  Where  is  my  father  ? "  cried  Marie,  with  the  strength  of 
her  growing  agony  ;  and,  as  the  deputy  was  still  silent,  the 
multitude  around  took  up  the  young  girl's  words  and  shouted  : 
**  Where  is  her  father  ?  Tell  us  where  is  the  Burgomaster 
Wengelin  ? " 

"  Is  he  dead » "  murmured  Marie,  her  teeth  chattering  with 
fear. 

**  No,  Marie,"  replied  the  senator,  "  he  is  not  dead,  but  if  no 
help  is  vouchsafed  from  above,  he  will  die  to-day,  and  we  must 
all  die  with  him." 

The  people  broke  into  a  long  wail,  and  Marie  fell  upon  her 
knees  to  pray.  She  could  frame  no  words  wherewith  to  cry 
for  mercy,  but  her  soul  was  with  Qod  ;  and  for  a  few  moments 
she  was  rapt  in  an  ecstasy  that  bore  her  far,  far  away  from 
the  weeping  multitude  around.  She  was  recalled  from  her 
pious  transport  by  the  voice  of  her  uncle,  one  of  the  deputies, 
who  was  addressing  the  people. 

General  Melac  had  mocked  at  their  petition.  They  bad 
humbled  themselves  on  their  knees  for  the  sake  of  their  suffer- 
ing fellow-citizens,  but  the  heartless  Frenchman  had  laughed, 
and,  laughing,  reiterated  his  command. 

If  before  sunset  the  five  hundred  thousand  francs  were  not 
forthcoming,  the  French  soldiery  would  be  there  with  fire  and 
sword.  The  inhabitants  should  be  exterminated,  and  Esslin- 
gen  laid  in  ashes. 


428  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

This  horrible  disclosure  was  received  with  another  burst  of 
woe,  except  from  the  unfortunate  Marie,  who  stood  like  a  pale 
and  rigid  Niobe — her  grief  too  deep  for  tears  or  sighs. 

When  the  tumult  had  somewhat  subsided,  the  senator  re- 
sumed his  sad  recital.  At  sound  of  the  Frenchman's  cruel 
mandate,  the  Burgomaster  Wengelin  had  risen  from  his  knees, 
and  raising  his  head  proudly,  had  cried  out :  "  Give  us  back 
that  of  which  you  have  robbed  us,  and  we  can  pay  you  ten 
times  the  sum  you  ask.  We  were  a  peaceful  and  prosperous 
community  until  your  plundering  hordes  reduced  us  to  beg- 
gary. Be  content  with  the  booty  you  have  already  ;  and  be 
not  twice  a  barbarian,  first  stealing  our  property,  and  then, 
like  a  fiend,  requiring  us  to  reproduce  and  lay  it  at  your 
feet." 

The  noble  indignation  of  the  burgomaster  excited  nothing 
but  mirth  on  the  part  of  the  Frenchman.     He  laughed. 

"  Well,  it  makes  no  great  difference,  after  all.  Your  lives 
will  do  quite  as  well  as  the  ransom  you  cannot  afford  to  pay 
for  them.  My  soldiery  like  fire  and  blood  and  pretty  women 
almost  as  well  as  they  do  gold,  and  I  shall  enjoy  the  spectacle 
from  the  castle- walls.  As  for  you,  burgomaster,  you  have 
something  that  I  covet  for  my  own  use— your  beautiful 
daughter." 

"  My  daughter  ! "  shrieked  Wengelin,  defiantly,  "  before  she 
should  be  delivered  to  you,  monster  !  I  would  take  her  life  as 
Virginius  took  that  of  his  well-beloved  child  !  " 

The  general  said  not  a  word.  For  a  time  the  two  men  eyed 
each  other  like  two  enraged  tigers  ;  but  General  Melac  wasted 
no  time  in  vain  indignation.  He  signed  to  his  guards,  and 
ordered  them  to  take  away  the  prisoner,  and  retain  him  as  a 
hostage  until  sunset. 

"  When  our  well-beloved  citizens  of  Esslingen  shall  hear 
the  report  of  the  musketry  that  ends  his  life,  they  will  know 
that  the  signal  for  pillage  has  been  given.  The  execution  will 
take  place  at  sunset. " 

Then,  addressing  himself  to  the  six  remaining  deputies  : 
"  Go,"  said  he,  "  and  relate  what  you  have  seen  and  heard  to 
your  fellow-citizens  ;  and  tell  them  that  my  Frenchmen  are 
skilful  both  with  sabre  and  torch  ;  they  have  been  practising 


THE  JUDITH  OF  ESSLINGEN.  429 

for  several  weeks  past  in  Heidelberg,  Mannheim,  and  other 
German  cities.  Do  not  forget  to  communicate  all  this  to  the 
fair  daughter  of  the  burgomaster." 

This  time  there  was  no  outburst  of  grief  from  the  people  ; 
they  felt  that  all  hope  was  vain,  and  they  were  nerving 
themselves  for  martyrdom.  Presently  there  was  a  sound  of 
voices,  and  the  fugitives  from  Wurtemberg  and  the  Palati- 
nate were  heard  relating  their  frightful  experience  of  the 
warfare  of  a  monarch  who  styled  himself  "  Most  Christian 
King." 

One  of  them  mounted  the  steps  of  the  council-hall,  and  de- 
scribed the  entrance  of  the  French  into  his  native  town.  The 
people  were  driven  with  bayonets  from  their  beds  into  the 
snow,  children  were  tossed  into  the  flames ;  old  men  were 
butchered  like  cattle  :  maidens  were  torn  from  the  arms  of 
their  parents,  and  given  over  to  the  soldiery  ;  and  the  narrator, 
who  had  escaped,  had  been  for  days  without  food — for  weeks 
without  covering  or  shelter  I 

As  the  man  concluded  this  frightful  picture  of  carnage,  a 
voice  from  among  the  crowd  was  heard  in  clear,  loud,  ringing 
tones  : 

"  There  is  rescue  at  hand—  we  must  make  use  of  it ! " 

At  the  same  moment,  Marie  felt  a  grasp  upon  her  arm,  and 
turning  beheld  herself  in  the  custody  of  a  tall,  pale  man,  who 
continued  to  cry  out : 

**  She  can  rescue  us  !  I  saw  the  French  general  stroke 
her  cheeks  yesterday,  and  look  at  her  with  eyes  of  love.  Did 
he  not  demand  her  of  her  father  ?  And  were  his  last  words 
not  a  message  to  her  ?  I  hint  that  she  might  ransom  us  if  she 
would  I " 

**Ay,  ay,"  responded  one  of  the  crowd.  "Ayl"  echoed 
another  and  another  ;  and  now  the  chorus  gathered  strength, 
and  swelled  into  a  shout  that  penetrated  the  walls  of  Esslin- 
gen  Castle,  and  reached  the  ears  of  Marie^s  unconsciouB 
father. 

Marie  covered  her  face  with  her  hands,  and  sank  upon  her 
knees.  "  Oh,  Caspar  I "  was  the  unspoken  thought  of  her  af- 
fectionate soul. 

**  Friends  1 "  exclaimed  her  unde,  "  you  are  drunk  with 


4:30  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

cowardly  fright.    Know  ye  that  ye  ask  of  this  maiden  her  own 
ruin  for  your  lives  ? " 

''  But  if  Melac's  soldiery  are  set  upon  us,"  replied  a  young 
woman  in  the  throng ;  "  we  shall  all  be  ruined — mothers, 
wives,  and  maidens.  And  is  it  not  better,"  continued  she,  rais- 
ing her  voice,  and  addressing  the  mob,  "  is  it  not  better  that 
one  woman  should  suffer  dishonor  than  a  thousand  ? " 

"  Marie  Wengelin  will  have  her  father's  life  to  answer  for, 
as  well  as  the  lives  of  her  fellow-citizens,"  cried  another  voice. 
"  It  is  her  duty  to  sacrifice  herself." 

At  this  moment  the  loud,  shrill  tones  of  an  affrighted  voice 
were  heard  calling  out,  "  Marie  !  Marie  !  my  child  !  "  and  the 
figure  of  Frau  WengeJin,  with  outstretched  arms,  was  now 
seen  at  the  window,  whence  the  mother  and  daughter  had 
watched  the  return  of  the  deputies. 

Marie  would  have  responded  to  that  pathetic  appeal,  but  as 
she  rose  from  her  knees,  and  attempted  to  move,  she  was  forced 
and  held  back  by  the  crowd.  They  were  lost  to  all  sense  of 
humanity  for  the  one  segregated  being  by  whose  immolation 
the  safety  of  the  aggregate  might  be  effected. 

"  Have  pity  !  have  pity  ! "  cried  the  poor  girl.  "  Do  you 
not  hear  my  mother  calling  me  ?  Think  of  your  own  children, 
and  hinder  me  not,  I  implore  ye  ! " 

"  We  think  of  our  children,  and  therefore  you  shall  not 
go  !    You  shall  sacrifice  yourself  for  the  suffering  many  ! " 

And  they  lifted  her  back  to  the  peristyle,  where  she  stood 
alone,  confronting  the  pitiless  crowd  that  demanded  her  honor 
wherewith  to  buy  their  lives.  What  was  the  fate  of  the  daugh- 
ter of  Jephthah,  compared  to  that  which  threatened  poor 
Marie  of  Esslingen  ? 

Suddenly  a  cloud  seemed  to  pass  over  the  sky,  and  the  faces 
of  her  enemies  were  no  longer  distinct.  Marie  raise  her  arms 
wildly  over  her  head,  and  screamed,  for  too  well  she  under- 
stood the  shadow  that  rested  upon  the  market-place.  The  sun 
had  sunk  behind  the  heights  of  Esslingen,  and  one  half  hour 
remained  ere  her  father  lost  his  life. 

The  crowd  renewed  their  cries,  entreaties,  and  threats. 
Some  appealed  to  her  patriotism,  some  to  her  filial  love,  some 
called  her  a  murderess, — the  meanest  among  the  multitude  at 


THE  JUDITH  OF  ESSLINGEN.  431 

tempted  to  terrify  her— as  if  any  doom  could  equal  the  horror 
of  the  ODe  they  were  forcing  upon  an  innocent,  pure-hearted, 
and  loving  girl ! 

She  raised  her  hand  to  obtain  a  hearing. 

'*  You  shall  not  perish  if  my  prayers  can  save  you  I  I  will 
go  to  our  oppressor, 'and  try  to  move  his  heart  to  pity." 

She  heard  neither  their  shouts  of  joy  nor  their  thanks. 
She  was  hardly  conscious  of  the  blessings  that  were  being 
poured  on  her  head,  the  kisses  that  were  imprinted  on  her 
rigid,  clammy  hands.  She  stood  for  a  while,  her  teeth 
clinched,  her  eyes  distended,  her  figure  dilated  to  its  utmost ; 
then  suddenly  she  shivered,  thrust  away  the  women  that  were 
clustering  about  her,  and  began  her  tna  cruets. 

At  the  gate  of  the  city  she  encountered  the  pastor  that  had 
baptized  and  received  her  into  the  church.  He  had  placed 
himself  there  that  he  might  pour  what  consolation  he  could 
into  that  bruised  and  bleeding  heart.  The  old  man  laid  his 
hand  upon  her  golden  curls,  and  she  fell  at  his  feet.  The  mul- 
titude that  had  followed  their  victim  simultaneously  bent  the 
knee  and  bowed  their  heads  ;  for,  although  they  were  too  far 
to  overhear  his  words,  they  knew  that  the  pastor  was  blessing 
her. 

"  As  Abraham  blessed  Isaac,  and  as  the  Israelites  blessed 
Judith,  so  do  I  bless  thee,  thou  deliverer  of  thy  people  !  May 
God  inspire  thy  tongue,  and  so  soften  the  heart  of  the  tyrant, 
that  he  may  hearken  to  thy  prayers,  and,  looking  upon  thy 
pure  and  virgin  brow,  he  may  respect  that  honor  which  is 
dearer  to  woman  than  life.  God  bless  thee,  Marie  I  Qod  bless 
thee  ! "  He  bowed  his  head  close  to  her  ear.  "  Marie  you  are 
a  Christian.  Swear  to  me  that  you  will  not  stain  your  hands 
with  blood." 

Marie^s  eyes  flashed  fire.  "  Did  not  the  Israelite  kill  Hole- 
femes?" 

**  Yes,  my  child ;  but  IsraePs  heroine  was  called  Judith, 
and  ours  b^irs  the  blessed  name  of  Mary  !  'Vengeance  is 
mine,  saith  the  Lord  ;  I  will  repay.'" 

Mane's  eye  was  still  unsubdued,  and  she  looked  more  like 
Judith  than  like  Mary.  The  old  pastor  was  agitated  and 
alarmed. 


432  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

"  Marie,  Marie,  you  are  in  the  hands  of  God.  Come  weal, 
come  wo,  can  you  not  trust  yourself  to  Him  ?  See,  the  sun 
goes  lower  and  lower  ;  but  before  I  release  your  hand  you  must 
swear  that  it  shall  shed  no  blood." 

Alas  !  Yes — the  sun  was  rapidly  sinking,  and  she  must  has- 
ten, or  her  father's  life  would  be  lost.  "  I  promise,"  said  she, 
"  and  now,  father,  pray — pray  for — " 

She  could  say  no  more  ;  but  rising  she  went  alone  up  the 
steps  that  led  to  Esslingen  Castle.  The  people,  still  on  their 
knees,  followed  her  lithe  figure  till  it  was  hidden  for  a  time 
by  the  fir-trees  that  grew  along  the  heights  ;  then,  as  she 
emerged  again  and  appeared  at  the  hill-top,  the  multitude  gave 
vent  to  their  feelings  in  prayer. 

Higher  and  higher  she  mounted,  until  they  saw  that  she 
had  reached  the  gates,  and  disappeared. 


CHAPTER  YH. 

HER  RETURN. 

Hours  went  by  and  darkness  set  in.  It  was  a  cold  night 
in  March  ;  the  wind  howled  in  fitful  gusts  along  the  streets, 
but  the  people  could  not  disperse.  They  sat  shivering  to- 
gether in  the  market-place  ;  for  how  was  it  possible  for  sleep 
to  visit  their  eyes,  when  every  moment  might  hurl  destruc- 
tion upon  their  heads.  The  old  priest  went  from  one  to  an- 
other, encouraging  the  desponding,  and  comforting  the  afflict- 
ed ;  praying  with  the  mothers,  and  covering  their  shivering 
children,  who,  stretched  at  the  feet  of  their  parents,  or  resting 
within  their  arms,  were  the  only  ones  there  to  whom  sleep 
brought  oblivion  of  sorrow. 

At  last  that  fearful  night  of  suspense  went  by.  A  rosy 
flush  tinged  the  eastern  sky,  it  deepened  to  gold,  and  the  sun 
rose.  The  people  raised  a  hymn  of  thanksgiving,  and,  as  they 
were  rising  from  their  devotions,  the  roll  of  a  drum  was  heard, 
and  a  file  of  soldiers  were  seen  issuing  from  the  castle-gates. 
They  came  nearer  and  nearer,  until  they  reached  the  city; 


UER  RETURN.  488 

but  by  the  time  they  had  neared  the  market-place,  not  a  hu- 
man being  was  there  to  confront  them  :  the  people  had  all  fled 
to  their  houses. 

They  stopped  before  the  residence  of  the  burgomaster,  and 
from  an  opening  made  in  the  ranks  there  issued  two  persons  ; 
the  one  a  man,  the  other  a  woman.  The  latter  was  veiled, 
and  her  head  rested  languidly  upon  the  shoulders  of  her  com- 
panion. 

A  group  of  French  officers  escorted  them  to  the  door,  where 
they  took  off  their  hats,  and,  bowing  low,  retired.  The  father 
and  daughter  were  lost  to  view,  the  drum  beat  anew,  and  the 
men,  without  exchanging  a  word  with  the  inhabitants,  re- 
turned to  their  quarters  at  Esslingen  Castle. 

The  people  were  no  sooner  reassured  as  to  the  intentions  of 
the  soldiers,  than  they  poured  in  streams  from  their  homes, 
and  took  their  way  to  the  burgomaster's  house.  Congratula- 
tions were  exchanged  between  friends,  parents  embraced  their 
children,  husbands  pressed  their  wives  to  their  bosoms  ;  every 
heart  overflowed  with  gratitude  to  Marie,  every  voice  was  lift- 
ed in  her  praise. 

But  she  I  Scarcely  enduring  her  mother's  caresses,  she 
had  torn  herself  from  that  mother's  embrace,  and,  hastening 
away  to  the  solitude  of  her  own  room,  had  bolted  herself 
within. 

Two  hours  went  by,  and  the  house  of  the  burgomaster 
could  scarcely  contain  the  friends  that  flocked  thither  to  wel- 
come his  daughter.  Without,  a  band  of  music  was  playing 
martial  airs,  while  within,  halls,  parlors,  and  staircases,  were 
crowded  with  magistrates  in  their  robes  of  office,  churchmen 
in  their  clerical  gowns,  and  women  and  maidens  in  gay  and 
festive  apparel. 

A  deputation  of  citizens  now  requested  to  be  permitted  to 
pay  homage  to  the  heroine  that  had  rescued  her  townsmen 
from  death ;  and  Frau  Wengelin  ventured  to  knock  at  the 
door  of  her  daughter's  chamber.  She  was  so  earnest  in  her 
pleadings,  that  at  last  the  bolt  was  withdrawn,  and  Marie,  with 
bIoo<lshot  eyes,  and  mouth  convulsed,  appeared  upon  the 
threshold. 

**  Come^  my  child,"  said  the  poor  mother,  "  the  citizens  will 


434  PRINCE   EUGENE   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

not  leave  the  house  until  they  have  seen  you."  And  compel- 
ling her  forward,  Frau  Wengelin,  with  some  difficulty,  brought 
her  as  far  as  the  foot  of  the  staircase. 

She  was  greeted  with  loud  and  repeated  cheerings,  which 
scarcely  appeared  to  reach  her  ear,  while  her  eyes,  fixed  upon 
the  throng  before  her,  seemed  to  ask  what  meant  this  tur- 
moil. 

Suddenly  she  heard  her  name  whispered,  and,  with  a  fear- 
ful shriek,  she  recoiled  from  the  outstretched  hand  of  a 
young  man,  who  had  just  rushed  forward  to  clasp  her  in  his 
arms. 

"  What  ails  my  Marie  on  this  festive  day,  where  all  is  joy 
around  ? "  said  he.  "  I  have  just  this  moment  arrived,  to  say 
that  help  is  nigh,  my  countrymen,"  added  he,  addressing  the 
crowd.  "  Our  army  is  at  hand,  and  the  French  shall  suffer 
for  their  deeds  of  violence  in  Germany.  But  what  means  this 
large  and  gay  assemblage  ?  And  who  are  these  ? "  asked  he, 
as  a  group  of  young  maidens  came  forward  with  a  crown  of 
laurel,  and  some  of  the  principal  burgomasters,  leading  the  be- 
wildered Marie  to  a  throne  decked  with  flowers,  seated  her  on 
a  chair  under  its  green  and  fragrant  canopy. 

No  answer  was  made  to  his  inquiry,  for  one  of  the  deputies 
began  an  address,  in  which  Marie  was  hailed  as  the  heroine 
that  had  rescued  her  fellow-citizens  from  death,  and  her  native 
place  from  destruction.  Her  portrait  was  to  grace  the  council- 
hall  of  Esslingen,  and  such  honors  as  it  lay  in  the  power  of 
its  magistrates  to  confer,  were  to  be  hers  forever. 

At  this  moment  Marie  rose  suddenly  from  her  seat,  gasped 
for  breath,  and  fell  as  suddenly  back,  for  the  first  time  lifting 
her  face,  which,  as  she  lay  against  the  wall  of  flowers  that 
concealed  her  chair,  was  marble-white,  and  strangely  con- 
vulsed. 

Her  mother  started  forward,  and  Caspar,  catching  her  in 
his  arms,  covered  her  face  with  kisses. 

"  What  ails  thee,  my  beloved  ?  Oh,  do  not  look  so  wildly 
at  thy  Caspar  !    Marie,  my  own  one,  what  is  it  ? " 

"  It  is  over,"  murmured  she,  almost  inaudibly. 

"What  is  over?"  cried  the  frightened  mother^  bending 
over  her  child's  writhing  form. 


HER   RETURN.  435 

"  Life  ! "  sighed  the  girl,  aud  her  eyes  closed  wearily. 

The  frightful  stillness  was  unbroken  by  a  sound.  Frau 
Wengelin  suppressed  her  sobs,  that  she  might  gaze  upon  her 
dying  child  ;  while  her  father  stood  by,  the  picture  of  dumb 
despair.  Caspar  held  her  to  his  heart,  dimly  apprehending 
the  fearful  tragedy  of  the  hour,  and  the  guests  pressed  noise- 
lessly around,  vainly  striving  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  their  vic- 
tim's face. 

The  crowd  opened  to  allow  passage  to  the  priest,  who,  ap- 
proaching the  throne,  came  and  knelt  beside  Caspar. 

"  Marie,"  said  he,  in  a  loud,  distinct  voice,  that  reached  the 
portals  of  her  soul,  and  aroused  her  departing  senses. 

Marie  slowly  opened  her  eyes,  and  gazed  upon  the  speaker. 
"  I  have  kept  my  oath,"  said  she,  hoarsely.  "  No  blood  was 
shed,  but  I  have  returned  to  die." 

*'  Wherefore  to  die  ?  "  cried  several  voices  at  once. 

"  Ask  my  Caspar,"  murmured  she,  looking  fondly  into  the 
face  of  her  betrothed,  and,  with  her  eyes  fixed  upon  his,  Marie's 
soul  took  its  fight  to  heaven. 


BOOK  YH. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  ISLAND  OF  BLISS. 

They  were  together  in  the  little  pavilion  of  the  garden  at 
Schonbrunn.  With  clasped  hands,  and  eyes  that  sparkled 
with  happiness,  they  sat  in  that  sweet  silence  which  to  lovers 
is  more  eloquent  than  words.  The  door  that  led  to  the  park 
was  open,  and  the  balmy  breath  of  May  wafted  toward  them 
the  perfume  of  the  flowers  and  trees  without. 

The  park,  too,  was  undisturbed  by  a  sound.  The  laborers 
had  gone  to  their  mid-day  meal,  and  the  birds  had  hidden 
themselves  away  from  the  sunbeams.  The  great  heart  of 
Nature  was  pulsating  with  a  joy  like  that  of  the  lovers,  too 
great  for  utterance.  There  was  something  in  the  appearance 
of  this  youthful  pair  which  would  have  convinced  a  looker-on 
that  there  was  a  mystery  of  some  sort  surrounding  the  ro- 
mance of  their  love.  For  the  one  was  in  the  garb  of  a  nun, 
her  head  concealed  by  a  coif,  and  her  person  enveloped  in  a 
long  white  veil ;  while  the  other  was  attired  in  a  splendid 
Spanish  dress.  Over  it  hung  a  heavy  gold  chain,  to  which 
was  attached  the  order  of  the  Golden  Fleece.  His  soft  black 
hair  lay  on  a  forehead  white  as  snow,  and  made  a  pleasant 
contrast  with  a  face  which  was  pale,  not  with  sickness  or  suf- 
fering, but  with  that  suppressed  sensibility  which  leaves  the 
cheek  colorless  because  its  fires  are  concentrated  within  the 
heart.  No  !  It  was  not  for  sorrow  that  Eugene  of  Savoy  was 
pale  ;  it  was  from  excess  of  joy  ;  for  she  was  at  his  side,  and 
the  world  had  nothing  more  to  bestow  ! 

So  thought  he,  as,  with  caressing  hand,  he  lifted  her  long 
veil  from  her  shoulders  and  threw  it  behind,  in  imitation  oi 
the  drapery  that  hangs  around  Raphael's  Madonnas. 

(436) 


THE  ISLAND  OF  BLISS.  437 

"  Oh,  how  I  love  you,  Sister  Angelica  I "  murmured  he  ; 
*'  and,  in  my  feverish  visions,  how  often  I  have  mistaken  that 
white  veil  for  the  snowy  sail  of  a  ship  of  which  I  used  to 
dream  in  my  delirium — a  ship  that  was  bearing  me  onward  to 
an  island  of  bliss,  where  my  Laura  stood  with  outstretched 
arms,  and  welcomed  me  home  !  But  what  were  imagination's 
brightest  picturings  to  the  reality  of  the  deep  joy  that  flooded 
my  being,  when  the  veil  was  flimg  back,  and  my  love  stood 
revealed  !  Oh,  Laura— my  life  will  be  all  too  short  to  reward 
you  for  your  fidelity." 

"  You  love  me,  Eugene,  and  therein  is  my  unspeakable  re- 
ward." 

"  And  will  you  never  leave  me,  dearest  ? " 

She  laid  her  small  hand  upon  his  head,  smoothed  his  hair 
fondly,  and  gazed  passionately  into  his  eyes.  You  ask,  as  if 
you  i*equired  an  answer,"  said  she,  in  tones  that  were  tremu- 
lous with  love. 

''  I  do  require  an  answer,  for  I  am  continually  fearing  that 
this  is  a  blissful  dream  ;  and  that  some  morn  I  shall  awake 
to  find  thee  flown,  and  Angelica  the  nun  all  that  is  left  of 
thee  I  When  thou  art  absent  from  my  sight,  I  shiver  with 
dread  lest  I  should  see  thee  never  more." 

She  laughed,  and  oh,  how  musical  was  her  laugh  I  "  Is 
this  the  hero  of  Belgrade,  that  talks  of  shivering  with 
dread?" 

**  Yes  ;  and  when  he  thinks  that  he  might  lose  you,  he  is  no 
hero,  but  a  poor  coward.  And  in  truth,  my  Laura,  I  am  tired 
of  a  soldier's  life— it  is  too  exciting  for  my  health  ;  and  I  am 
tired  of  the  world  and  its  frivolities,  too.  If  you  love  me  as  I 
do  you,  you  will  be  happy  in  our  mutual  love,  witliout  other 
companionship  than  mine." 

'•  Over  castle-roof,  and  through  the  dangerous  descent  of 
that  caatle-chimney,  came  I  to  meet  you,  Eugene  ;  how  then 
should  I  pine  for  other  companionship?" 

"  When  I  think  how  mysterious  was  your  escape,  I  dread 
lest  you  should  disappear  from  me  as  mysteriously.  The  very 
thought  presses  on  my  brain  like  the  first  horrid  symptoms  of 
madness  ;  then  my  body  begins  to  suffer,  my  wounds  seem  to 
open,  and  bleed  anew.    Laura,  prove  to  me  your  love  by  going 


438  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

with  me  into  solitude.  I  am  tired  of  being  a  courtier,  and 
have  asked  the  emperor  for  my  discharge." 

"  Did  he  grant  it,  Eugene  ? "  asked  she,  fixing  her  large, 
penetrating  eyes  upon  his,  with  an  earnestness  that  forbade 
him  to  avoid  her  glance. 

"  He  will  grant  it  to-morrow.  To-morrow  for  the  last  time, 
I  go  to  the  imperial  palace  as  a  field-marshal ;  I  shall  return 
thence  nobody  but  Eugene  of  Savoy,  your  lover,  who  lives  but 
to  serve  you,  and  repay  if  he  can  all  that  he  owes  to  your 
courageous  and  heroic  affection." 

"  The  emperor  has  refused,"  replied  Laura.  '*  He  gave  you 
time  for  reflection,"  added  she,  looking  intently  again  into  her 
lover's  eyes. 

"  Perhaps  he  may  have  wished  me  to  reflect,"  replied  he, 
smiling,  and  trying  to  endure  her  scrutiny.  "  But  my  resolve 
is  not  to  be  shaken.  I  shall  retire  to  the  estate  presented  me 
by  the  emperor  in  Hungary,  there  to  live  with  my  darling  on 
an  island  of  bliss,  upheaved  so  far  above  the  tempestuous 
ocean  of  the  world's  vicissitudes,  that  no  lashing  of  its  waves 
will  ever  reach  our  home.  Will  you  go  with  me  into  this  isl- 
and, where  you  shall  not  fear  the  world's  censorious  comments 
on  our  reunion — where  you  may  throw  aside  that  false  vestal 
garb,  and  be  my  own  untrammelled  bride  ? " 

Laura  said  nothing ;  a  deep  glow  suffused  her  cheeks, 
and  her  eyes  filled  with  tears.  Gliding  from  her  seat 
to  her  knees,  she  took  her  lover's  hand  and  covered  it  with 
kisses. 

"  Laura  ! "  exclaimed  he,  "  what  can  this  signify  ? " 

Laura  wept  on  for  a  time  in  silence  ;  then,  when  she  had 
recovered  herself  sufficiently  to  speak,  she  replied  : 

*'  It  signifies  that  I  bow  down  before  the  magnanimity  of 
him  who,  to  shield  me  from  the  world's  contumely,  would  re- 
linquish that  which  he  holds  most  dear  on  earth,  his  hopes  of 
glory." 

"  Laura,  give  me  an  answer  to  my  prayer.  Will  you  go 
with  me  to  my  estates  in  Hungary  ? " 

Laura  smiled,  but  said  nothing. 

"  Answer  me,  Laura,  answer  me,  my  own  love." 

"  The  emperor  gave  you  a  day  to  reflect  upon  your  sudden 


THE  ISLAND  OF  BUSS.  439 

desire  for  retirement.  Give  me  but  one  hour  for  my  deci- 
sion." 

"You  hesitate!" 

"  Only  one  hour,  Eugene  ;  but  during  that  hour  I  must  be 
alone  with  my  Maker.     Await  me  here." 

Drawing  the  veil  over  her  face,  Laura  bounded  lightly 
down  the  pavilion  steps,  and  walked  hurriedly  toward  the  pal- 
ace. Eugene  looked  after  her  with  eyes  that  beamed  with  love 
ineffable,  sighing  as  he  did  so  ;  "  She  is  worthy  of  the  sacri- 
fice ;  I  owe  it  to  her." 

The  hour  seemed  interminable.  At  first,  he  fixed  his  eyes 
upon  the  walk  by  which  she  must  return  ;  then  he  turned 
away,  that  he  might  wait  until  he  heard  her  dear  voice. 

At  last  a  light  step  approached  the  pavilion  ;  he  heard  it 
coming  up  the  steps,  and  a  beloved  voice  spoke  : 

"  The  Marchioness  de  Bonaletta." 

Eugene  turned,  and  there,  instead  of  Sister  Angelica,  stood 
his  beautiful  Laura  in  rich  attire — so  beautiful  that  he  thought 
he  had  never  sufficiently  admired  her  before. 

He  started  forward,  and,  dropping  on  one  knee,  took  her 
little  hand,  and  covered  it  with  kisses.  Then,  rising,  he  flung 
his  arm  around  her  waist,  and  drew  her  to  a  seat. 

"  Now  read  me  the  riddle,"  said  he. 

"  My  beloved,  do  you  think  me  so  blind  as  not  to  have  com- 
prehended the  immeasurable  sacrifice  you  would  have  made 
to  my  womanly  pride  ?  Oh,  how  I  thank  you,  my  own,  peer- 
less Eugene  I  But  I  will  not  accept  it.  I  may  not  bear  your 
name,  but  Ood  knows  that  I  am  your  wife,  as  Eve  was  the 
spouse  of  Adam  ;  and  it  is  for  me  to  show  that  our  bond  is 
holy,  by  enduring  courageously  the  stigma  of  being  considered 
as  your  mistress.  Enough  for  me  to  feel  that  to  you  I  shall 
be  an  honored  and  beloved  wife,  incapable  of  sharing  your 
fame,  but  oh,  how  proud  of  my  hero  !  Gird  on  your  sword, 
my  Eugene,  and  fulfil  your  glorious  destiny.  Go  once  more 
into  the  world,  and  let  me  share  your  fate." 

"  Let  her  share  my  fate  I  She  asks  me  to  let  her  share  my 
fate.''  cried  Eugene,  pressing  her  to  his  heart  And  Qod  and 
hature  blessed  the  union  that  man  refused  to  acknowledge. 

29 


440  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS.  TIMES. 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE  FRENCH  EST  SPEIER. 

General  Melac  and  his  murderous  hordes  were  in  the  old 
city  of  Speier,  squandering  the  goods  and  money  of  which 
they  had  robbed  the  unfortunate  inhabitants.  Scarcely  two 
months  had  elapsed  since  the  departure  of  the  French  from 
Esslingen,  and  in  that  short  interval  they  had  laid  more  than 
one  hundred  towns  in  ashes. 

But  Melac  was  insatiable  ;  his  eyes  feasted  on  the  scarlet 
hue  of  G-erman  blood,  his  ears  were  ravished  with  the  sounds 
of  German  groans  and  sighs  ;  and  oftentimes,  when  the  poor 
hunted  fugitives  were  flying  from  his  presence,  he  made  a 
pastime  of  their  misery  for  himself,  by  aiming  at  them  with 
his  own  musket,  to  see  how  many  he  could  bring  down  before 
they  passed  out  of  sight. 

He  was  holding  a  council  of  war  with  his  generals  ;  but, 
while  he  made  merry  over  his  cruelties  of  the  day  before,  and 
projected  others  for  the  morrow,  his  officers  frowned  and 
averted  their  eyes. 

His  thick,  sensual  lips  expanded  with  a  hideous  smile.  "  It 
would  seem  that  my  orders  are  not  agreeable,"  said  he. 
"  Pray,  gentlemen,  am  I  so  unlucky  as  to  have  earned  your 
disapproval  ? " 

There  was  no  ansv/er  to  this  inquiry,  but  neither  was  there 
any  change  in  the  aspect  of  the  officers. 

"  General  Feuquiere,"  cried  Melac,  "  you  are  not  usually 
reticent ;  pray,  let  us  hear  your  opinion  of  my  mode  of  war- 
fare." 

"  I  cannot  approve  of  cruelty,"  replied  Feuquiere,  bluntly. 
"  Our  men  act  much  less  like  the  brave  soldiers  of  a  Chris- 
tian king,  than  like  demons  that  have  been  let  loose  from 
hell." 

"  You  do  not  flatter  us,"  replied  Melac.  "  And  I  am  curiou*' 
to  know  whether  anybody  else  here  present  shares  your  opin- 
ion." 

"  We  are  all  of  one  mind,"  was  the  unanimous  reply. 


THE  FRENCH  IN  SPEIER.  441 

•*We  are  assassins  and  incendiaries,  but  we  have  never 
yet  fought  a  battle  like  men,"  resumed  De  Feuquiere. 

"  No,"  added  Montclas.  "  We  have  longed  in  vain  for  hon- 
orable warfare  ;  for  a  fair  combat  before  the  light  of  heaven, 
face  to  face  with  men  armed  like  ourselves  ;  and  we  are  sick 
at  heart  of  midnight  torches  and  midnight  murders." 

"  No  doubt ;  you  are  a  sentimental  personage,  I  hear  :  one 
who  shed  tears  when  the  order  was  given  to  sack  Mann- 
heim." 

"I  am  not  ashamed  of  those  tears,"  returned  Montclas. 
**  For  three  months  these  much  enduring  people  have  exerted 
themselves  to  do  our  bidding,  treating  us  like  guests  who  had 
come  to  them  as  foes.  And  when,  in  return  for  their  kind- 
ness, our  soldiery  were  ordered  to  sack  their  beautiful  city,  I 
wept  while  I  was  forced  to  obey  the  inhuman  command  of  my 
superior  oflBcer.  May  Almighty  Grod  not  hold  me  responsible 
as  a  creature  for  what  I  have  been  forced  to  do  as  a  sol- 
dier I " 

"  You  can  justify  yourself  by  referring  the  Almighf  y  to 
me,  as  I  shall  certainly  justify  myself  by  referring  Him  to 
Monsieur  Louvois.  It  is  true  that  I  do  not  weep  when  I  carry 
out  his  orders  ;  but  you  may  judge  for  yourselves  whether  I 
transcend  them. — General  Montclas,  be  so  good  as  to  read 
aloud  this  dispatch." 

General  Montclas  took  the  paper,  and  read  in  an  audible 
voice : 

"  'It  is  now  two  weeks  since  I  have  seen  a  courier  from  the 
army.  What  are  you  about  that  I  receive  no  more  accounts 
of  the  destruction  of  German  citieg  wherewith  to  entertain  the 
idle  hours  of  his  majesty  ?  You  have  been  ordered  to  devas- 
tate the  entire  G^erman  frontier.  You  began  bravely,  but  you 
are  not  keeping  the  promise  of  your  ox)ening.  The  Germans 
are  full  of  sentiment,  and  you  roust  wound  them  through 
their  affections  and  associations.  Bum  their  houses,  sack  their 
fine  churches,  deface  and  destroy  their  monuments  and  public 
buildings.  When  next  you  write,  let  me  hear  that  Speier 
with  its  magnificent  cathedral  is  a  thing  of  the  past ;  and  be 
axpeditious,  that  Worms  and  Trier  may  share  the  same  fate. 

*  Louvois.'  " 


442  PRINCE   EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

*'  You  see,  then,"  observed  Melac,  "  that  I  do  but  obey  or- 
ders. 

"  That  may  be,"  sighed  De  Feuquiere,  "  but  all  Europe  will 
rise  iu  one  indignant  protest  against  our  inhumanity." 

"  Let  them  protest ;  we  will  have  raised  such  a  barrier  of 
desolation  between  themselves  and  France,  that  we  can  afford 
to  laugh  at  their  indignation.  I  for  my  part  approve  of  the 
method  of  warfare  traced  out  for  us  by  the  minister  of  war, 
and  I  shall  carry  it  out  from  Basle  to  Coblentz.  The  time  we 
allowed  to  the  people  of  Speier  for  reflection,  expires  to-day. 
To  horse,  then  !  The  burgomasters  are  waiting  for  us  in  the 
market-place  by  the  cathedral." 

Yes  !  The  burghers,  the  clergy,  the  women,  and  the  chil- 
dren, were  on  their  knees  in  the  market-place,  crying  for  mercy. 
Melac,  laughing  at  their  wretchedness,  spurred  his  horse  on- 
ward, and  plunged  into  their  midst,  scattering  them  right  and 
left  like  a  flock  of  frightened  sheep  ;  and  the  clang  of  his 
horse's  hoofs  on  the  stone  pavement  sounded  to  his  unhappy 
victims  like  the  riveting  of  nails  in  the  great  coffin  wherein 
their  beautiful  city  was  shortly  to  be  buried. 

But  they  were  not  noisy  in  their  grief.  Here  and  there 
might  be  heard  a  slight  sob,  and,  with  this  exception,  there  was 
silence  in  that  thronged  market-place. 

Suddenly  the  great  bell  of  the  cathedral  began  to  toll,  and 
after  it  all  the  bells  in  Speier.  General  Melac  slackened  his 
pace,  and  rode  deliberately  along  the  market-place,  as  if  to 
give  that  weeping  multitude  the  opportunity  of  looking  upon 
his  cruel  face,  and  reading  there  that  from  him  no  mercy  was 
to  be  expected. 

The  bells  ceased,  and  their  tones  were  yet  trembling  on  the 
air,  when  the  women  and  children  lifted  up  their  voices  and 
began  to  chant :  "  In  my  trouble  I  called  on  the  Lord  !  '* 

The  strain  was  taken  up  by  the  musicians  who  stood  at  the 
open  windows  of  the  council-hall,  and  now  the  burghers,  the 
magistrates,  and  the  clergy,  joined  in  the  holy  song.  The 
French  uncovered  their  heads  and  listened  reverentially,  while 
many  an  eye  was  dimmed  with  tears,  and  many  a  heart  bled 
for  the  fate  of  those  whom  they  could  not  rescue. 

Every  man  there  felt  the  influence  of  the  blessed  words. 


THE  FRENCH  IN  SPEIER.  443 

except  one.  Greneral  Melac  was  neither  awed  nor  touched ; 
his  pale  eye  was  as  cold,  his  sardonic  mouth  as  cruel  as  ever. 

**  He  is  perfectly  hardened,"  murmured  a  monk,  who  was 
leaning  against  one  of  the  columns  of  the  cathedral.  This 
monk  was  a  young  man,  of  tall,  muscular  build.  His  wide 
shoulders  and  fine,  erect  figure,  seemed  much  more  suitable  to 
a  soldier  than  to  a  brother  of  the  order  of  mercy.  Even  his 
sun-burnt  face  had  a  proud,  martial  look  ;  and  as  his  dark, 
glowing  eyes  rested  on  Melac,  they  kindled  with  a  glance  that 
was  not  very  expressive  of  brotherly  love. 

"  He  is  without  pity,"  thought  he,  "  and  perhaps  'tis  weU  ; 
for  I  might  have  been  touched  to  grant  him  a  death  more 
merciful." 

He  moved  away  that  he  might  distinguish  the  words  that 
were  now  being  poured  forth  from  the  quivering  lips  of  the 
white-haired  prebendary  of  the  cathedral ;  but  the  poor  old 
priest's  voice  was  tremulous  with  tears,  and  the  monk  could 
not  hear.  He  then  made  a  passage  for  himself  through  the 
crowd  and  approached  Greneral  Melac.  The  prebendary  had 
ceased  to  speak,  and  there  was  a  solemn  stillness  in  the  mar- 
ket-place, for  every  sigh  was  hushed  to  catch  the  words  that 
were  to  follow. 

Melac  looked  around  that  he  might  see  how  many  thousand 
human  beings  were  acknowledging  his  power,  then  he  drew 
in  his  rein  and  smiled — that  deadly  smile  ! 

'*  My  orders  must  be  carried  out,"  said  he,  in  a  loud  and  dis- 
tinct voice.  "  Speier  must  be  razed  to  the  g^und,  and  I  am 
sorry  that  its  inhabitants  were  unwilling  to  profit  by  the  ner- 
mission  I  gave  them  to  emigrate  to  France.  They  would 
have  been  kindly  received  there." 

"  We  hope  for  mercy,"  was  the  reply  of  the  prebendary. 
**  Oh,  general,  let  us  not  hope  in  vain  I " 

"  No  mercy  shall  be  given  you,"  said  Melac,  who,  turning 
to  General  MontcLis,  remarked,  '*  What  an  advantage  I  have 
over  you  I  I  know  their  language,  and  can  understand  all 
their  expressions  of  grief  I    It  is  a  comic  litany  I " 

"  Demon,  I  will  repay  thee  ! "  muttered  the  monk.  And, 
coming  close  to  the  general's  horse,  he  laid  liis  hand  upon  the 
rein. 


444  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  sirrah  ? "  cried  Melac.  "  Withdraw 
your  hand." 

"  Your  excellency,"  replied  the  man  in  pure  French,  "  allow 
me  to  station  myself  at  your  horse's  head,  for  you  may  need 
my  help  to-day." 

"  Your  help  ?    Wherefore  ? " 

"The  work  in  which  you  are  engaged  is  apt  to  provoke 
personal  hostility.  I  dreamed  last  night  that  I  saw  you  wel- 
tering in  your  blood,  enveloped  in  flames.  I  am  superstitious 
— very  ;  particularly  as  regards  dreams,  and  I  left  the  hospital 
where  I  was  engaged  in  nursing  the  sick,  on  purpose  to  pro- 
tect your  excellency  from  secret  foes." 

"  Protect  me !  Who  do  you  suppose  would  be  so  bold  as  to 
attack  me  ?    Not  this  whining  multitude  around  us." 

"  Nobody  knows  to  what  acts  despair  may  drive  the  meek- 
est of  men,"  was  the  monk's  reply. 

"  Very  well ;  I  believe  you  are  right,"  said  Melac,  a  little 
disturbed.     *'  Station  yourself  at  my  rein,  then." 

At  that  moment  there  was  a  general  wail,  and  many  a 
voice  was  lifted  up  in  one  last  effort  to  soften  the  heart  of  their 
persecutor. 

"  Speier  must  be  destroyed,"  was  his  answer,  "  but  to  show 
you  the  extent  of  my  clemency,  I  v/ill  now  announce  to  you 
that  without  the  gates  are  four  hundred  forage- wagons,  which 
I  have  provided  for  the  removal  of  your  valuables  (if  you 
have  any)  to  any  point  you  may  select  within  the  boundaries 
of  France.  Those  who  prefer  to  remain,  are  allowed  to  de- 
posit their  effects  in  the  cathedral,  and  to  guard  them  in  per- 
son. The  temple  of  Almighty  God  is  sacred,  and  the  hand  of 
man  shall  not  profane  its  sanctity  by  deeds  of  violence.  Take 
your  choice  of  the  cathedral  or  the  army-wagons  :  I  give  you 
four  hours'  grace.  If,  after  that  time,  1  find  a  German  on  the 
streets,  man,  woman,  or  child,  the  offender  shall  be  scourged 
or  put  to  the  sword." 

In  a  few  moments  the  market-place  was  empty,  and  the 
people,  exhausted  and  cowed  though  they  were,  by  two  months 
of  oppression,  had  flown  to  take  advantage  of  this  last  act  of 
grace. 

"Now,  my  excellent  brother,"  said  Melac  to  the  monk, 


THE  FRENCH  IN  SPEIER.  445 

**  you  see  that  I  am  quite  safe,  and  can  dispense  with  your  pro- 
tection." 

"  The  day  is  not  yet  at  an  end,"  said  the  monk,  solemnly. 

"  You  are  right"  cried  the  butcher,  "  it  has  scarcely  begun  ; 
but  by  and-by  we  shall  see  a  comedy  that  will  raise  your  spirits 
for  a  month  to  come.  The  actors  thereof  are  to  be  the  people 
of  Speier,  and  the  entertainment  will  close  with  an  exhibition 
of  fireworks  on  a  magnificent  scale.  Send  me  two  ordnance 
officers  I "  cried  he  to  his  staff. 

Two  lancers  approached  and  saluted  their  commander. 

"  Let  two  companies  of  infantry  occupy  the  market-place," 
said  Melac.  **  Let  four  cannon  be  stationed  at  the  entrances 
of  the  four  streets  leading  to  the  cathedral.  For  four  hours 
the  people  shall  be  allowed  to  enter  with  their  chattels.  At 
the  end  of  this  truce,  two  more  companies  of  infantry  shall  be 
ordered  hither,  one  of  which  shall  surround  the  cathedral,  the 
other  march  inside.  A  detachment  of  miners  must  encompass 
the  columns  and  cornice  of  the  roof  with  combustibles  ;  but 
use  no  powder,  for  that  might  endanger  ourselves.  There 
are  straw,  hemp,  pitch,  tar,  and  sulphur  enough  in  the  town  to 
make  the  grandest  show  since  Rome  was  burned.  The  in- 
fantry that  enter  the  church,  will  massacre  the  people,  and  if 
they  are  dexterous  the  booty  is  theirs  ;  but  they  must  do  their 
work  swiftly,  or  there  will  be  no  time  to  save  anything,  for  I 
intend  that  the  entire  building  shall  be  fired  at  once. 

The  monk  started,  grasped  the  mane  of  the  horse  with  a 
movement  that  caused  him  to  shy,  and  his  rider  to  cry  out  in 
great  irritation  : 

"  What  are  you  doing,  fool  ? " 

"  Pardon,  your  excellency,  my  foot  was  under  your  horse^s 
hoof,  and  I  could  not  help  catching  at  his  mane." 

**  Keep  farther  away,  then  ;  I  do  not  believe  in  dreams. — 
Away  1 "  cried  he,  to  the  lancers,  who,  horror-stricken  but 
powerless  to  refuse,  went  on  their  diabolical  mission. 

**  And  now,"  continued  Melac,  "  we  will  ride  to  the  gates  to 
■ee  what  sort  of  entertainment  our  hospitable  hosts  of  Speier 
are  preparing  for  us  there." 

He  galloped  off  with  such  swiftness  that  his  guardian-angel 
was  left  behind.    But  he  followed  as  fast  as  he  could  ;  when- 


446  PRINCE   EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

ever  lie  met  a  man  hastening  with  his  goods  to  the  cathe- 
dral, bidding  him  "  Beware  ! "  and  passing  on.  Some  heeded 
the  warning,  others  did  not.  They  were  so  paralyzed  by  de- 
spair that  the  monk's  words  conveyed  no  meaning  to  their 
minds,  and  they  went  humbly  on  to  their  destruction. 

He  meanwhile  hurried  to  the  gates  through  which  the 
weeping  crowds  were  bearing,  each  one,  what  he  valued  most 
on  earth.  There  were  women,  scarcely  able  to  totter,  whose 
dearest  burdens  were  their  own  helpless  children  ;  there  were 
men  carrying  sickly  wives  or  decrepit  mothers ;  there  were 
others  so  loaded  down  with  the  few  worldly  goods  that  the 
odious  Frenchman  had  left  them,  that  their  backs  were  almost 
bent  in  two,  and  they  were  scarcely  able  to  drag  themselves 
along  !  The  nearer  the  gates,  the  denser  the  throng,  many  of 
whom  were  fainting  with  misery  and  exhaustion  ;  but  many 
also  to  whom  despair  lent  strength. 

Melac  was  there,  enjoying  the  scene  ;  sometimes  glancing 
toward  the  gates,  sometimes  toward  the  wagons  which,  for 
miles  around,  covered  the  extensive  plain  outside  of  the  city. 
The  poor  fainting  wretches  that  reached  them  let  their  burdens 
drop,  and  would  have  made  an  effort  to  follow  them,  but  they 
were  told  that  no  one  would  be  allowed  to  enter  the  wagona 
until  all  had  been  filled  with  their  wares. 


CHAPTER  m. 

THE  TREASURE. 

For  three  hours  the  monk  strove  in  vain  to  reach  the  gate  ; 
but  the  time  of  grace  was  fast  approaching  its  close,  and  now, 
the  press  becoming  less,  he  sped  along  as  if  he  had  been  flying 
for  life,  until  he  came  panting,  almost  breathless,  to  the  spot 
where  the  French  general,  surrounded  by  his  staff,  was  sitting 
on  his  horse,  enjoying  himself  immensely. 

"  Ah  ! "  said  he,  "  our  pious  brother  here  !  Well — you  seo 
that  I  am  alive." 

"  Yes,  and  I  am  glad  to  know  it,"  replied  the  monk,  resum- 
ing his  place  at  the  bridle. 


THE  TREASURE.  447 

Melac  turned  to  one  of  his  adjutants  :  "  Give  orders  to  the 
drivers  to  go  on,  and  let  the  soldiers  cut  down  every  man  that 
attempts  to  mount  the  wagons  or  withdraw  his  effects.  To 
get  the  honey,  we  must  kill  the  bees.  When  they  are  all  dead, 
the  men  can  divide  the  spoils."  * 

"  As  soon  as  the  sport  is  over,"  continued  he,  to  another  ad- 
jutant, "  I  will  repair,  with  my  staff,  to  the  council-hall,  there 
to  see  the  illumination.  Ride  on,  and  tell  the  superin- 
tendent that,  when  he  sees  my  handkerchief  waving  from 
the  great  window  in  the  second  story,  he  must  apply  his 
matches." 

So  saying,  Melac  put  spurs  to  his  horse,  and,  followed  by 
his  staff,  approached  the  wagons,  and  gave  a  signal  with  his 
sword. 

The  whole  train  was  set  in  motion,  and  the  horses  were 
urged  to  the  top  of  their  speed. 

The  unhappy  victims  of  this  demoniac  stratagem  gave  one 
simultaneous  shout  of  indignation.  Those  nearest  the  wagons 
strove  to  clutch  at  them  with  their  hands.  Some  held  on  even 
to  the  wheels,  some  mounted  the  horses,  some  snatched  the 
reins.  But  sharp  swords  were  near  ;  and,  at  the  word  of  com- 
mand, every  outstretched  arm  was  hacked  off,  and  fell,  sev- 
ered, to  the  ground. 

A  struggle  now  began  between  the  soldiery  and  the  com- 
panions of  those  who  had  been  so  cruelly  mutilated.  They 
were  unarmed,  hut  they  had  the  strength  of  brutes  at  bay  ; 
and  by-and-by  many  a  sword  had  been  snatched  from  their 
assassins,  and  many  a  Frenchman  had  bitten  the  dust.  General 
Melac  was  so  interested  in  a  fight  between  two  soldiers  and  two 
women  whose  children  bad  been  driven  off  in  the  wagons,  that, 
before  he  was  aware  of  his  danger,  a  sword  was  uplifted  over 
his  head,  and  a  frenzied  face  was  almost  thrust  into  his  own. 
At  this  moment  his  reins  were  seized,  his  horse  was  forced 
back,  and  the  stout  arm  of  the  monk  had  wrested  the  sabre 
from  the  enraged  German,  who  fell,  pierced  by  a  bullet  from 
the  holster  of  an  officer  close  by. 

"  Was  it  you,  pious  brother,  that  so  opportunely  backed  my 
steed  ?  "  inquired  Melac. 

•  HictoiioaL — See  Zimmern^ann,  **  Ui«tory  of  Woxtemberg,"  voL  ii. 


448  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

The  monk  bowed,  and  tlie  general  saw  that  his  forehead 
was  bloody. 

"  Are  you  wounded  ? " 

"  Yes,  general ;  I  received  the  stroke  that  was  intended  for 
you,  but  parried  it,  and  the  blow  was  slight." 

"  I  am  a  thousand  times  indebted  to  you  for  the  service  you 
have  rendered  me,  and  hope  that  you  will  not  leave  me  a 
second  time  without  your  sheltering  presence. — Ho  !  a  horse 
there  for  the  Bemardine  monk  1 " 

No  sooner  were  Melac's  commands  uttered  than  they  were 
obeyed,  for  he  that  tarried  when  the  tyrant  spoke  was  sure  to 
come  to  grief.  The  monk  swung  himself  into  the  saddle  with 
the  agility  of  a  trooper,  and,  although  the  horse  reared  and 
plunged,  he  never  swerved  from  his  seat. 

"Verily  you  are  a  curious  specimen  of  a  monk,"  laughed 
Melac.  "  I  never  saw  a  brother  so  much  to  my  taste  before. 
Come,  follow  me  to  the  market-place,  and  you  shall  see  my 
skill  in  pyrotechnics.  If  I  had  but  Nero's  field  of  operations^ 
I  could  rival  his  burning  of  Rome.  Happy  Nero,  that  could 
destroy  a  Rome  ! " 

'*  Do  you,  also,  envy  Nero  his  sudden  death  ?"  asked  the 
monk. 

*'  Why,  yes  ;  though  I  would  like  to  put  off  the  evil  day  as 
far  as  may  be,  I  hope  to  die  a  sudden  and  painless  death." 

"  Sudden  and  painless  death,"  muttered  the  monk,  between 
his  teeth.     "  You  allude  to  death  on  the  field  of  battle  ? " 

"  Ay,  that  do  I ;  it  is  the  only  end  befitting  a  soldier.  See 
— we  are  at  the  gates.  The  way  is  obstructed  by  corpses," 
continued  he,  urging  his  horse  over  a  heap  of  dead  that  lay  in 
the  streets.  "  Luckily,  they  will  not  have  to  be  buried  ;  they 
shall  have  a  funeral  pile,  like  that  of  the  ancients." 

"  Is  the  entire  city  to  be  destroyed  ? "  asked  the  monk. 

'Yes,  the  whole  city,  from  one  end  to  the  other  ;  and  these 
tottering  old  buildings  will  make  a  brave  blaze." 

"  A  brave  blaze,"  echoed  the  monk,  raising  his  mournful 
eyes  to  the  long  rows  of  houses  that  so  lately  were  the  abodes 
of  many  a  happy  family,  were  as  empty  as  open  graves.  They 
continued  their  way  along  the  silent  streets— silent  even 
around  the  cathedral,  where,  early  in  the  morning,  so  many 


THE   TREASURE,  449 

thousand  supplicants  had  knelt  hefor«  Grod  and  man  for 
mercy,  but  knelt  in  vain. 

Some  few  were  within  the  cathedral  walls,  some  were  ly- 
ing, their  ghastly  faces  upturned  to  heaven,  and  those  who 
had  survived  were  wandering  across  their  blasted  fields,  bereft 
of  kindred  and  home,  houseless,  hungry,  and  almost  naked. 

General  Melac  glanced  at  the  cathedral  porch.  That,  too, 
was  empty  and  still. 

*'  I  wonder  whether  our  men  have  done  their  work  over 
there ? "  said  he.     "I  must  go  and  see." 

Then  dismounting,  and  flinging  his  bridle  to  his  equerry^ 
he  called  upon  the  monk  to  follow  him.  The  staff  also  dis- 
mounted, and  an  officer  advanced  to  receive  orders. 

"  Gentlemen,  betake  yourselves  to  the  hall  of  council,  and 
await  my  return  at  the  great  window  there,  opposite." 

The  staff  obeyed,  and  the  general,  followed  by  his  preserver, 
ascended  the  steps  that  led  to  the  cathedral. 

"Your  excellency,"  whispered  the  monk,  coming  very- 
close,  "  before  we  enter,  will  you  allow  me  to  say  a  word  to 
you?" 

"  I  should  think  you  had  had  opportunity  enough  to-day  to 
say  what  you  wish." 

"Not  in  private,  general.  Until  now  we  have  had  lis- 
teners." 

**  Well,  is  it  anything  of  moment  you  desire  to  communi- 
cate?" 

"  Something  of  great  importance." 

"Speak  on,  and  be  quick,  for  time  presses." 

"Your  excellency  is  resolved  to  bum  down  the  cathedral  ?** 

"  Have  I  not  told  you  that  I  would  ? "  replied  Melac,  with  a 
frown.     "  Nothing  in  heaven  or  on  earth  shall  save  it." 

"Then,"  said  the  monk  with  a  deep  sigh,  "  for  the  sake  of 
our  brotherhood,  I  must  violate  the  sanctity  of  the  confes- 
sional. But  you  must  swear  to  preserve  my  secret,  otherwise 
you  shall  not  hear  it." 

"  A  secret  of  the  confessional  I  How  can  it  concern 
me?" 

"  You  shall  hear.  It  relates  to  the  concealment  of  two  mO- 
lions'  worth  of  gold  and  precious  stones." 


450  PRINCE   EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

The  covetous  eyes  of  Melac  glittered,  and  the  blood  mounted 
to  his  brow.     "  Two  millions  ! "  gasped  he. 

"  One  for  you  and  one  for  our  brotherhood.  Do  you  swear 
to  keep  the  secret  ? " 

''  Most  unquestionably." 

"  And  also  swear  that  no  one  but  ourselves  shall  know  the 
place  of  its  concealment  ? " 

"I  swear,  most  willingly,  for  I  do  not  intend  to  divide  my 
share  of  the  booty  with  anybody  living.  How  soon  do  you 
expect  to  come  in  possession  of  it  ? '' 

''  Now — at  this  very  hour." 

Melac  drew  back,  and  eyed  the  monk  suspiciously.  "  How  ! 
These  lying  wretches  had  two  millions  of  treasure,  and  not  one 
of  them  would  yield  it  up  ? " 

"General,  the  people  of  Speier  have  nothing — nothing. 
Nobody  knew  of  it  save  the  bishop,  who  died  day  before 
yesterday,  and  the  sacristan,  who  died  to-day.  You  re- 
member that  I  was  absent  from  your  side  during  two  hours 
to-day?" 

Melac  nodded,  and  the  monk  went  on  :  "  Those  two  hours 
I  spent  by  the  dying-bed  of  this  sacristan,  the  only  depositary 
of  the  secret.  He  was  wounded  among  the  rest,  was  conveyed 
to  a  neighboring  house,  and  there  I  received  his  last  confes- 
sions. All  the  treasures  of  the  cathedral— its  gold,  silver,  and 
jewels — were,  at  the  approach  of  the  French  army,  conveyed 
to  a  place  in  the  tower,  which  place  the  sacristan  designated  so 
plainly,  that  I  can  find  it  without  difficulty." 

"  But  what  has  induced  you  to  share  it  with  me  ? "  asked 
Melac,  with  a  glance  of  mistrust. 

"  Imperative  necessity,  general.  I  cannot  obtain  it  without 
your  protection.  You  have  given  orders  that  no  man  shall 
be  suffered  to  escape  from  the  cathedral  to-day,  and,  unless 
you  go  with  me,  the  treasure  must  be  given  up  to  the  flames. 
Certainly,  if  I  could  have  gotten  it  without  assistance,  it 
would  have  been  my  duty  to  give  it  over  entire  into  the  hands 
of  the  brotherhood.  But  if  you  help  me,  I  will  divide  it  with 
you.  It  lies  in  the  tower  of  the  cathedral,  close  by  the  bel- 
fry." 

"Come,  then,  come  ;  show  me  the  way." 


CASPAR'S  VENGEANCE.  451 

They  entered  the  massive  doors.  The  sentry  saluted  the 
general,  and  they  passed  on. 

"  Let  nothing  more  be  done  until  I  return,"  said  Melao 
to  the  sentry.  "  I  wish  to  go  over  the  old  building  before  we 
consign  it  to  the  flames." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

CASPAR'S  VENGEANCE. 

Deep  silence  reigned  within  the  walls  of  the  holy  temple, 
broken  occasionally  by  an  expiring  sigh,  or  the  faint  sound  of 
the  death-rattle.  For  the  French  soldiery  had  done  their 
work.  The  poor  wretches  that  had  been  ensnared  into  seeking 
refuge  there,  had  all  been  murdered,  and  their  possessions  re- 
moved to  a  place  of  safety.  One  hour  earlier,  the  vaults  of  the 
house  of  Grod  had  rung  \vith  shrieks  and  groans,  but  tlie  vic- 
tims were  now  dying  or  dead. 

General  Melac  went  among  the  prostrate  bodies,  looking 
here  and  there  behind  the  pillars,  to  see  whether  any  thing  of 
value  had  been  overlooked  by  his  subordinates.  The  monk 
meanwhile  bent  over  the  pixwtrate  forms  that  lay  in  hundreds 
upon  the  marble  pavement,  and  so  absorbed  was  he  in  sooth- 
ing their  last  moments,  that  he  almost  started  as  the  rough 
voice  of  General  Melac  reached  him  from  the  opposite  end  of 
the  nave. 

''Come,  come,"  cried  he,  in  thundering  tones.  ''  Enough  of 
useless  sentimentality  I " 

Without  a  word  the  monk  rose,  and,  pointing  to  the  grand 
altar,  the  general  entered  the  chancel,  and  followed  his  con- 
ductor to  a  small  door  cut  in  the  wall.  This  the  monk  opened, 
and,  stepping  back,  signed  to  Melac  to  advance. 

'*  Does  this  winding-stair  lead  to  the  tower  ? "  asked  the 
latter. 

"  Yes,  genera],  and  as  there  is  but  one  way  to  reach  it,  I  re- 
sume my  proper  place,  and  follow  you,  as  in  duty  bound." 

Melac  began  to  ascend  the  stairs,  the  monk  coming  behind 


452  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

him,  with  an  aspect  the  very  opposite  of  that  he  had  endeav- 
ored to  maintain  all  day.  His  stooping  shoulders  were  flung 
back,  his  head  was  erect,  and  in  his  eyes  there  sat  a  threaten- 
ing devil,  which,  if  Melac  could  have  seen  it,  would  have  made 
his  heart  grow  chill  with  apprehension.  But  Melac,  too,  was 
no  longer  the  same.  Up  to  this  moment  he  had  assumed  an 
appearance  of  friendliness  toward  his  companion.  But  now 
his  eye  flashed,  and  his  hand  clutched  his  sword,  while  deep 
in  his  heart  flowed  a  current  of  treachery,  which,  translated 
into  words  ran  thus  : 

"  I  do  not  see  why  he  should  have  any  part  in  this  treasure. 
As  soon  as  he  has  pointed  out  the  spot,  I  will  catch  him  in  my 
arms  and  hurl  him  down  into  the  body  of  the  church.  By 
Heaven  !  the  life  of  one  miserable  monk  never  was  worth  a 
million  of  treasure  ! " 

Did  the  monk  suspect  what  was  passing  within  the  mind  of 
the  general  ?  Perhaps  he  did  ;  for  well  he  knew  that  he  was 
capable  of  any  amount  of  atrocity. 

On  they  went,  sometimes  stumbling  in  the  dark,  sometimes 
emerging  into  the  light,  until  at  last  they  reached  the  topmost 
step  where  Melac  halted  to  breathe. 

"Are  we  almost  there  ? "  asked  he. 

"Almost  there,"  echoed  the  monk,  while  with  a  swift 
movement  of  his  hand  he  drew  from  under  his  cassock  two 
long,  stout  thongs  of  hide. 

"  What  are  you  doing  there  ? "  asked  Melac. 

"  I  am  making  ready  my  lasso,"  replied  he,  throwing  one 
of  the  thongs  over  the  head  of  the  general ;  and,  before  the 
latter  had  time  to  recover  from  his  surprise,  it  was  passed 
around  his  body,  and  his  hands  were  pinioned  fast  behind. 

Melac  comprehended  that  he  was  betrayed,  and  making 
desperate  efforts  to  free  himself,  he  lost  his  footing,  and  fell 
at  full  length  on  the  granite  pavement  of  the  tower.  The 
monk  now  sprang  upon  his  body,  and  di-awing  from  his 
bosom  a  long  handkerchief,  he  tied  it  fast  over  his  victim's 
mouth. 

"  Your  cries  might  be  heard,  and  some  fool  might  come  to 
the  rescue,"  said  he.  "  You  shall  die  without  being  allowed  to 
give  utterance  to  your  despair." 


CASPAR'S  VENGEANCE.  453 

Melac's  eyeballs  almost  started  from  their  sockets,  but  the 
monk  looked  on  without  pity.  He  dragged  him  to  that  part 
of  the  tower  whence  the  gilded  weathercock  could  be  seen  toy- 
ing with  the  free  air  of  heaven.  The  sky  shone  blue  and 
bright ;  never  had  it  seemed  so  fair  to  the  wretch  that  was 
looking  his  last  upon  its  azure  dome.  He  felt  himself  raised 
in  the  arms  of  the  monk,  firmly  fastened  with  a  second  thong, 
and  then  tossed  outside  the  tower,  where  he  hung,  a  small,  dark 
speck  in  the  eyes  of  the  officers  that  wei-e  awaiting  his  return 
to  the  hall  of  council. 

And  now  the  monk  cast  himself  down  upon  his  knees. 
"  O  God,  I  thank  Thee  that  Thou  hast  granted  my  prayer,  and 
delivered  this  monster  to  my  hands  !  'Tis  Thy  will  that  I 
should  be  his  executioner,  and  may  Thy  holy  will  be  done  for- 
ever and  forever  !  '* 

He  rose  and  approached  Melac,  whose  face  was  ghastly 
pale,  and  whose  eyes  were  overflowing  with  tears.  "  Now,'* 
said  he,  "  know  why  I  have  delivered  you  unto  a  cruel  and 
agonizing  death.  For  months  I  have  tracked  your  path,  with 
power  to  have  stricken  you  every  hour  of  the  day.  But  sud- 
den death  was  too  merciful  for  such  a  brute  as  you !  The 
Hyena  of  Esslingen  shall  have  the  horror  and  apprehension 
of  a  slow,  torturing,  and  solitary  death.  Without  sympathy 
and  without  witnesses  shall  he  die,  and  in  his  last  moments, 
when  his  flesh  quivers  with  agony,  and  the  devouring  flames 
shall  consume  his  odious  body,  let  him  think  on  Marie  Wen- 
gelin,  and  on  me,  her  lover  and  betrothed  husband — Cas- 
par!" 

Without  another  word,  he  drew  from  Melac^s  finger  his 
signet-ring,  and  began  to  descend  the  winding-stair.  The  eye 
of  his  victim  followed  his  tall,  manly  figure  until  it  disap- 
peared forever  from  his  sight ;  and  then  he  listened  to  his  re- 
treating footsteps  until  they  grew  faint  and  more  faint,  and 
all  hope  was  lost !  An  hour  of  mortal  agony  went  by  ;  the 
sun  sank  slowly  to  rest,  and  a  few  stars  brightened  the  sap- 
phire vault  above  him.  Suddenly  a  red  glow  brightened  the 
heavens,  and  gilded  the  dark  waters  of  the  Rhine— that  Rhine 
which  he  had  so  incarnadined  with  blood  !  Avenging  God  t 
It  was  the  fire  himself  had  kindled  1    It  leaped  up  from  every 


464:  PRINCE  EUGENE   AND  HIS  TIMES. 

point  of  Speier — and  now — now  tlie  cathedral  was  in  flames^ 
and  death — slow,  lingering,  and  agonizing — ^had  overtaken 
the  Hyena  of  Esslingen  I 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  DUCHESS  OP  ORLEANS. 

"  I  CAN  never  consent  to  such  a  disgraceful  marriage  for 
my  son,"  cried  Elizabeth-Charlotte  to  her  husband. 

"  Madame,  I  look  upon  it  as  a  great  honor  that  my  son 
should  espouse  the  daughter  of  the  king." 

"  The  daughter  of  shame  and  infamy— the  daughter  of  a 
man  who,  violating  his  marriage- vow — " 

"Madame,"  interrupted  the  duke,  "you  forget  that  you  are 
speaking  of  his  majesty  the  King  of  France  I " 

"  King  of  France  ?  There  is  no  question  of  a  king,  but  of 
my  brother-in-law,  of  whose  faults — nay,  sins,  I  may  surely 
speak,  within  the  walls  of  my  own  cabinet,  I  suppose." 

"  Madame,"  replied  the  duke,  trying  to  draw  up  his  small 
person  until  he  fairly  stood  on  tiptoe,  "  madame,  I  forbid  you 
to  express  yourself  in  such  terms  of  your  sovereign  and  mine." 

"  Forbid  me  to  speak  the  truth,  you  mean.  And  to  be  sure, 
at  a  court  like  this,  where  everybody  feeds  on  flattery,  truth  is 
strangely  out  of  place." 

"  Like  yourself,  for  instance,"  observed  the  duke. 

"  Yes,  like  myself,"  replied  the  duchess,  with  a  sweet  smile 
that  illumined  her  plain  features,  and  lent  them  a  passing 
beauty.  "  I  believe  that  I  am  most  unwelcome  among  the  fine 
and  fashionable  folks  of  Paris  ;  but  it  is  not  my  fault  that  I 
am  here,  a  poor,  homely  sparrow  in  a  flock  of  peacocks  and 
parrots." 

"  Madame,"  replied  the  duke,  pompously,  "  if  you  choose  to 
consider  yourself  as  a  sparrow,  you  have  my  full  consent  to 
do  so,  although  I  must  say  that  it  is  somewhat  presuming  for 
any  one  so  to  designate  the  woman  whom  I  honored  with  my 
hand.    But  I  must  always  regret  that  you  have  never  dis- 


THE  DUCHESS  OF  ORLEANS.  455 

played  enough  tact  to  lay  aside  your  plebeian  German  man- 
ners, and  resume  those  of  the  courtly  and  elegant  entourage  of 
the  refined  King  of  France." 

The  eyes  of  the  duchess  shot  fire,  and  the  hue  on  her  cheeks 
deepened  to  scarlet 

*'  Your  manners  may  be  refined,  monseigneur ;  but  God 
shield  me  from  your  morals  !  The  war  you  are  waging 
against  my  native  land  is  one  of  assassination  and  rapine  ;  and 
oh  !  how  I  wish  that  I  were  free  to  leave  France  forever,  that 
I  might  sufl'er  and  die  with  my  dear,  slaughtered  countrymen  ! 
But  dearly  as  I  love  my  native  land,  I  love  my  children  still 
more.  Maternal  love  is  stronger  in  my  heart  than  patriotism^ 
and  my  Elizabeth  and  my  Philip  are  more  to  me  than  Ger- 
many 1 " 

"  You  say  nothing  of  me,"  observed  the  duke,  sentiment- 
ally.    **  Am  I,  then,  nothing  to  you  ? " 

"  Yes,  monseigneur,  you  are  the  father  of  my  children.  I 
plighted  my  faith  to  you,  and  I  have  kept  my  marriage-vows. 
But  you  know,  as  well  as  I,  that  we  were  both  nothing  but 
royal  merchandise,  bartered  for  reasons  of  state,  and  that  we 
have  never  been  congenial.  Nevertheless,  I  love  you  as  the 
father  of  my  Philip  !  for  he  has  your  handsome  face  and  your 
refined  and  courtly  bearing." 

"  Madame,"  returned  the  duke,  blushing  with  gratification, 
**I  thought  you  disdained  to  flatter." 

"I  do  not  flatter  you,  monseigneur,"  cried  the  duchess, 
cordially  grasping  his  hand,  and  leading  him  to  the  mantel, 
over  which  hung  a  full-length  portrait  of  the  youthful  Duke 
de  (jhartres.  "See,"  exclaimed  she  with  affectionate  pride, 
*'  see  what  a  beautiful  picture  Mignet  has  made  of  him.  It 
was  done  in  secret  in  Mignet's  studio,  and  was  brought  to  me 
yesterday  as  a  birthday  present  from  my  boy." 

"  It  was  very  thoughtless  of  Philip  to  visit  Mignet,"  ob- 
jected the  duke.  "He  too  often  forgets  his  rank  and  rela- 
tionship to  the  king." 

"  Forgive  him,  monseigneur.  He  forgot  his  station,  to  re- 
member his  filial  affection,"  and  for  several  moments  the 
znother*8  eyes  were  fondly  fixed  upon  the  portrait.  "  Look  ! " 
resumed  she  ;  "  these  are  your  eyes,  your  well-developed  fore- 
80 


456  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

Jiead,  your  aquiline  nose,  your  pleasant  and  expressive  mouth. 
In  your  youth,  you  were  as  handsome  as  he — I  have  often 
heard  it  said  that  you  were  the  handsomest  cavalier  in  Paris." 

"  Except  the  king,  madame — except  the  king  !  I  am  too 
loyal  a  subject  to  excel  his  majesty  in  anything.  I  am  glad, 
however,  that  you  think  my  son  resembles  me  ;  to  me  there  is 
a  blended  likeness  of  both  his  parents  in  his  countenance." 

"  Never,  never  ! "  exclaimed  Elizabeth-Charlotte,  with  ani- 
mation. "There  is  no  trace  of  my  coarse  features  in  that 
aristocratic  face  ;  and  yet,  like  the  owl  that  hatched  the  eagle's 
^ggy  I  am  proud  of  calling  him  my  son.  And  now,  monsei- 
gneur,  let  me  implore  of  you  not  to  cross  the  escutcheon  of  our 
'eaglet  with  the  bar-sinister  that  disgraces  the  arms  of  Made- 
moiselle de  Blois." 

"Madame,"  exclaimed  the  duke,  much  irritated,  "speak 
more  respectfully  of  the  daughter  of  Louis  XIV.  !  She  has 
been  recognized  by  his  majesty,  and  there  is  no  stain  upon  her 
arms. " 

"  Pardon  me — it  is  not  in  the  power  of  any  sovereign  to 
xjrase  the  foul  blot  of  her  birth  ;  and  I  shudder  when  I  think 
of  an  alliance  between  the  son  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans  and 
grandson  of  the  Elector  Palatine,  and  the  daughter  of  a  king's 
leman.  If  his  majesty  mentions  the  subject  to  me,  I  shall  tell 
him  as  much." 

"  Impossible  ! "  cried  the  duke,  aghast.  "  I  have  already 
promised  that  you  would  solicit  the  honor  of  an  alliance  with 
Mademoiselle  de  Blois." 

"  You  promised  what  I  will  not  perform.  Do  you  suppose 
that  I,  by  birth  and  marriage  a  royal  princess,  would  debase 
myself  so  far  as  to  ask  for  my  son's  wife  the  daughter  of  a 
harlot  who  drove  the  hapless  queen  to  her  grave  ?  and  to  take 
her  by  the  hand,  and  present  her  to  the  court  as  my  daughter  ? 
I  would  rather  absent  myself  forever  from  court,  and  I  will 
certainly  not  attend  the  king's  ball  to-hight." 

"You  cannot  do  that,  for  you  accepted  the  invitation 
yesterday." 

"Yesterday  I  knew  not  the  humiliation  implied  in  my 
acceptance.  To-day  I  know  it,  and  I  will  excuse  myself,  and 
be  sick." 


THE  DUCHESS  OF  ORLEAN&  457 

**  Madame,  I  command  you  to  appear  at  the  ball,"  cried  out 
the  enraged  duke,  "  and  we  shall  see  whether  you  presume  to 
rebel  against  my  conjugal  authority." 

"  I  shall  not  rebel,"  replied  the  duchess.  '*  Since  you  com- 
mand my  presence,  you  shall  have  it ;  but  I  warn  you  that  I 
shall  mortally  offend  the  king,  for—" 

The  duke  was  about  to  protest  anew  against  his  wife's  blas- 
phemy, when  the  old  Grerman  lady  of  honor,  who  presided 
over  the  toilet  of  her  highness,  rushed  into  the  room  in  a  state 
of  great  agitation. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Katharina  ? "  asked  the  duchess. 

*' Your  royal  highness,"  replied  Katharina,  panting,  "a  cou- 
rier has  just  arrived  from  the  Countess  Louise.  He  has  ridden 
day  and  night  to  deliver  his  message,  and,  although  he  is  cov- 
ered with  mud  and  dust,  he  insisted  that  I  should  announce 
him  to  your  royal  highness." 

"  A  courier  from  Louise  I "  murmured  the  duchess. 
"  Something  must  have  happened  I  Go,  Kathi,  bid  him  come 
into  my  little  parlor. — Will  monseigneur  excuse  me  ?  I  am 
deeply  concerned  lest  some  misfortune  should  have  befallen 
my  sister." 

"  Sister  !  Is  the  Countess  Louise  the  daughter  of  a  princess 
Palatme?" 

"  No,  monseigneur  ;  you  know  that  she  is  the  daughter  of 
the  Countess  Dagenfeld,  my  father's  wedded  wife — although 
never  acknowledged  as  such — because  she  was  not  of  royal 
birth.  There  is  no  bar-sinister  on  Louise's  shield  ;  she  is  truly 
and  honorably  my  half-sister." 

The  duchess  bowed  and  hastened  to  her  parlor,  where  the 
courier  was  awaiting  her  arrival. 

*'  Has  anything  happened  to  the  countess  ?  Is  she  ill  ?  Have 
I  lost  my  dear  relative  ? " 

"No,  your  royal  highness.  Your  princely  relatives  are 
well,  and  here — here  is — " 

He  made  an  attempt  to  place  a  letter  in  her  hand,  but  reeled 
and  fell,  exhausted,  at  her  feet. 

"  Pardon  me,  madame,"  said  he,  "  I  have  been  for  three 
days  and  nights  in  the  saddle.  My  strength  has  given  way — I 
cannot  rise.    But  read  your  letter,  I  implore  you." 


468  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

The  ducliess  stooped,  and  took  it  from  his  nervele^  hand  j 
then,  commending  him  to  the  care  of  Katharina,  she  broke  the 
seal  and  began  to  read. 

Its  contents  affected  her  so  terribly,  that  her  teeth  chattered^ 
her  knees  trembled,  and,  throwing  herself  upon  the  sofa,  she 
covered  her  face  with  her  hands  and  wept. 

But  she  wept  for  a  moment  only. 

"'Katharina,"  cried  she,  to  her  old  confidante,  who  was 
chafing  the  temples  of  the  courier,  "  leave  that  poor  youth  for 
a  moment,  and  fetch  me  a  mantilla  and  hood.  I  must  go  to 
the  king  at  once  ! " 

"  Your  royal  highness  is  in  a  neglige,"  remonstrated  Katha- 
rina ;  "I  will  have  to  dress  you." 

*'  I  cannot  wait  to  be  dressed,"  cried  Elizabeth-Charlotte  ; 
"  speed  away,  and  bring  me  my  wrappings.  God  be  praised,^ 
the  king  will  be  at  home  !  Thousands  of  lives  depend  upon, 
my  intercession  ! " 

Katharina  returned  with  the  mantilla,  which,  without  the 
least  regard  to  grace,  her  royal  highness  flung  over  her  stout 
figure,  while  she  jerked  the  hood  over  her  head  with  an  im- 
petuosity that  made  the  old  lady  wring  her  hands. 

"  Oh,  her  hair  is  down,  and  the  hood  all  twisted  to  one 
side,"  murmured  the  mistress  of  the  toilet,  as  the  duchess,  indif- 
ferent to  all  forms  of  civilization,  dashed  down  the  staircase 
and  leaped  into  her  carriage. 


CHAPTEE  VI. 

THE  DELIVERANCE  OF  TRIER. 

The  equipage  thundered  along  the  streets  of  Paris,  and 
drew  up  before  the  hooded  door,  at  the  side  entrance  of  the 
Liouvre,  which  was  especially  reserved  for  the  use  of  the  royal 
family. 

The  duchess  sprang  from  her  carriage,  hurried  up  the  stair- 
case, almost  stumbling  over  the  sentry  as  he  made  an  attempt 
to  "present  arms,  and  flew  into  the  antechamber  that  led  to  the 
cabinet  of  the  king. 


THE  DELIVERANCE  OF  TRIER.  459 

She  came  in  like  a  frigate  under  full  sail,  but  was  encoun- 
tered by  a  gentleman  of  the  privy  chamber,  who  barred  the 
entrance. 

"  Make  way  for  me — do  !  "  said  she,  clasping  her  hands.  "  I 
must  see  his  majesty  this  very  moment." 

"  His  majesty  is  in  secret  conference  with  the  Marquis  de 
Ijouvois  and  Madame  de  Maintenon,"  was  the  reply.  "Not 
even  your  royal  highness  C£in  obtain  admittance." 

"So  much  the  better  if  Louvois  is  there.  Let  me  pass — I 
command  you,  let  me  pass  I" 

"  Indeed,  madame,  you  know  not  what  you  ask.  I  have 
received  stringent  orders  to  admit  nobody." 

"The  royal  family  are  never  included  in  these  prohibi- 
tions," cried  the  duchess. 

"  But  to-day,  your  royal  highness,  I  was  placed  here  to  pre- 
vent their  coming  !  You  well  know  that  none  but  the  princes 
and  princesses  of  the  blood  would  presume  to  make  use  of  this 
entrance." 

"  It  concerns  the  lives  of  thousands  ! "  urged  the  duchess. 

"  Did  it  concern  that  of  my  own  son,  I  would  know  better 
than  to  seek  to  save  it  by  disobeying  his  majesty's  orders." 

'*  You  will  not — positively  will  not  let  me  pass  ? " 

"I  dare  not,  madame." 

"  Then  you  must  excuse  me,  but  I  shall  force  my  way,"  re- 
turned Elizabeth -Charlotte,  grasping  the  slender  form  of  the 
king's  gentleman,  and,  with  her  powerful  hands,  flinging  him 
into  the  comer  of  the  room,  while  she  strode  rapidly  to  the 
opposite  door,  and  opened  and  had  closed  it  again  before  her 
opponent  had  recovered  his  breath. 

Before  touching  the  bolt  of  the  door  which  opened  directly 
into  the  king's  cabinet,  she  paused  to  recover  her  breath,  and 
to  gather  courage  for  the  coming  in^rview.  She  trembled 
from  head  to  foot,  and  leaned  against  the  wall  for  support. 
But  El izal>eth -Charlotte  was  not  a  woman  to  be  deterred,  by 
fear  of  kings,  from  what  she  deemed  her  duty.  With  the  reso- 
lution that  characterized  her,  she  uttered  one  short  ejacula- 
tion for  help  from  above,  and  opened  the  door. 

LouYois  was  in  the  act  of  speaking.  "  Sire,  our  arms  are  as 
•accefisful  in  Italy  as  they  have  been  in  Germany,  where  town 


460  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

after  town  has  been  taken  without  the  drawing  of  a  sword — 
where  the  people  have  offered  the  keys  of  all  the  fortresses  to 
your  generals,  and  have  welcomed  the  advent  of  our  troops 
with  joy." 

"  Your  majesty,"  cried  the  duchess,  coming  forward,  "  do 
not  believe  him  !  He  tells  a  falsehood — O  God  !  what  a  false- 
hood!" 

The  astonishment  of  that  cabinet-council  is  not  to  be  de- 
scribed. The  kiug  rose  from  his  seat  and  confronted  her  with 
eyes  that  flamed  with  anger. 

"Madame,"  exclaimed  the  grand  monarque,  in  a  rage, 
•'  were  you  not  told  that  I  would  see  nobody  this  morning  ? " 

"  Yes,  your  majesty  ;  so  emphatically  told,  that,  before  I 
could  make  my  way  to  your  presence,  I  was  obliged  to  hurl 
your  gentleman  to  the  other  side  of  the  room.  It  is  not  his 
fault  that  I  am  here  ! " 

Madame  de  Maintenon  rolled  up  her  eyes,  Louvois  sneered, 
and  Louis,  looking  as  if  he  wished  that  he  could  consume  his 
sister-in-law  with  a  glance,  turned  around  to  his  minister. 

"  Monsieur  Louvois,  be  so  good  as  to  forget  the  imprudent 
words  that  madame  has  just  spoken.  It  is  impossible  that  a 
princess  of  the  blood  should  so  far  forget  her  own  dignity  as 
to  lay  hands  on  an  attendant  of  the  king.  Take  care  that  the 
indiscretion  of  her  royal  highness  go  no  farther  than  these 
walls  ;  and,  if  you  hear  it  spoken  of,  contradict  it  flatly." 

"  Your  majesty,"  exclaimed  the  duchess,  "  that  is  the  very 
way  to  make  everybody  believe  it,  for  surely  nobody  will  be- 
lieve Monsieur  Louvois." 

"  Sire,"  said  Louvois,  shrewdly,  "  I  was  about  to  communi- 
cate tidings  of  the  greatest  importance  to  your  majesty.  I 
would  be  glad  of  your  permission  to  resume  our  conference. 
It  is  late,  and — " 

"  Madame,"  cried  Louis,  "  once  for  all,  leave  this  room,  and 
interrupt  us  no  longer." 

"  Does  your  majesty  suppose  that,  after  forcing  my  way 
to  your  presence,  I  intend  to  retreat  without  accomplishing 
the  object  for  which  I  came?  I  entreat  of  you,  hear  me, 
and  judge  for  yourself  whether  my  pertinacity  is  not  justified 
by  the  occasion  of  my  intrusion." 


THE  DELIVERANCE   OF  TRIER.  4^1 

"  Very  well,  madame,"  replied  Louis.  ''  I  will  remember 
that  you  are  my  brother's  wife,  and  forget  an  excess  of  pre- 
sumption which,  were  you  not  my  sister-in-law,  would  merit 
the  Bastile.  Speak,  and  let  us  hear  your  petition.  It  needs  to 
be  one  of  moment  to  earn  your  pardon." 

With  these  words,  Louis  threw  himself  into  his  arm-chair, 
and,  pointing  to  a  tabouret  at  hand,  requested  her  royal  high* 
ness  to  be  seated.  The  duchess  looked  around  the  room,  and, 
seeing  a  vacant  arm-chair  a  little  farther  ojff,  she  rolled  it  for- 
ward, and  seated  herself  with  great  grandeur.  This  chair  be- 
longed to  Madame  de  Maintenon,  who,  a  moment  previous,  had 
risen  and  walked  to  the  window. 

She  became  very  red  in  the  face,  and,  coming  directly  in 
front  of  the  duchess,  said  :  '*  Madame,  this  is  my  own  arm- 
chair ;  be  so  good  as  to  excuse  me  if  I  ask  you  to  rise." 

*'  Impossible,  my  dear  marquise,  impossible  ! "  was  the  re- 
ioinder.  "  His  majesty  requests  rae  to  be  seated,  and  this  is  the 
only  seat  in  the  room  that  accords  with  my  rank.  If  his 
majesty  allows  you  to  seat  yourself  in  his  presence,  and  that 
of  a  princess  of  the  blood,  there  is  a  tabouret  which  doubtless 
was  placed  for  your  accommodation  on  such  occasions." 

Madame  de  Maintenon  looked  imploringly  at  the  king, 
hoping  that  he  would  interfere  ;  but  he  did  not.  His  eyes 
were  cast  down,  and  it  was  plain  that  no  help  was  to  be  ex- 
pected from  him.  His  unacknowledged  spouse  was  therefore 
oblifi^  to  yield  the  point,  and  put  up  with  the  tabouret. 

"Now,  madame,"  said  Louis,  as  though  rousing  himself 
from  profound  meditation,  ''I  await  your  pleasure." 

"  Sire,"  cried  the  duchess,  "  I  have  come  hither  to  accuse 
yonder  traitor,  who,  in  your  majesty's  name,  is  perpetrating 
deeds  of  horror  that  are  enough  to  brand  any  sovereign  with 
infamy.  Did  I  not  hear  him  say,  as  I  entered  this  room,  that 
the  French  army  was  received  with  open  arms  by  the  Grer- 
mans?" 

"  You  did,  madame.  As  a  proof  of  the  truth  of  this  asser- 
tion, here  are  the  very  keys  of  all  the  towns  and  fortresses  we 
have  besieged.'* 

The  king  pointed  to  a  basket  wreathed  with  flowers,  where- 
in lay  a  heap  of  gigantic  keys. 


462  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

**  Oh,  sire,"  exclaimed  the  duchess,  "  these  keys  were  pur- 
chased with  blood  and  pillage.  Your  soldiers  have  not 
marched  into  Germany  like  the  invading  armies  of  a  civilized 
nation  ;  they  have  come  as  incendiaries  and  assassins.  Wit- 
ness my  father's  castle,  which  they  reduced  to  a  heap  of  ashes." 

"  My  dear  madame,"  said  Louis,  deprecatingly,  "  war  is  not 
a  pastime.  I  regret  that  it  was  necessary  to  burn  your  father's 
castle  ;  but  you  perceive  that  it  was  not  burned  in  vain,  for 
your  countrymen,  since  then,  have  shown  themselves  amen- 
able to  reason." 

"  Sire,  you  are  shamefully  deceived ;  and  I  have  come  to 
lay  at  the  foot  of  your  throne  the  plaint  of  an  unhappy  people. 
Ah,  you  little  know  what  crimes  are  being  committed  in  your 
name  1  General  Montclas  himself  shed  tears  when  Mannheim 
was  sacked  and  destroyed  ;  and,  when  the  people  of  Duriach 
were  driven  by  your  soldiery  into  the  very  midst  of  the  flames 
that  were  consuming  their  homes,  the  Duke  de  la  Eoche  re- 
monstrated with  the  Marquis  de  Crequi  on  the  atrocity  of  the 
<jrime.  What  do  you  suppose  was  the  answer  of  the  marquis  ? 
*  Le  roi  le  veut ! ' " 

"Is  this  so?"  asked  the  king,  turning  to  Louvois,  who 
was  hiding  his  troubled  countenance  in  the  embrasure  of  a 
window. 

"  Sire,  I  have  never  heard  of  it  before,"  replied  the  minister. 

"  Well  may  he  say  that  he  never  heard  of  it,  if  he  means 
that  your  majesty  never  gave  such  an  order  to  him  ! "  cried 
Elizabeth-Charlotte.  But  if  he  means  that  he  did  not  order 
these  massacres,  he  tells  an  untruth.  He  is  avenging  on  the 
people  of  Germany  the  laurels  which  Prince  Eugene  has 
earned  in  the  service  of  the  emperor,  and  which,  but  for  him, 
would  have  redounded  to  the  glory  of  France.  Oh,  sire  !  this 
war  is  one  of  personal  vengeance  on  the  part  of  your  wicked 
subject ;  it  is  not  waged  for  your  honor  or  advantage.  I  ask 
in  his  presence,  did  the  King  of  France  order  the  destruction 
of  Worms  and  Speier  ?  Was  it  by  the  order  of  our  gracious 
sovereign  that  the  very  house  of  God  was  committed  to  the 
flames  ? " 

"  Can  such  a  crime  have  been  perpetrated  in  my  name  ?  ** 
cried  Louis,  with  indignation. 


THE  DELIVERANCE  OF  TRIER.  463 

**  Sire,"  replied  Louvois,  "  your  majesty  has  said  it—'  War 
is  no  pastime.' " 

'*  He  does  not  deny  it,"  cried  the  duchess,  wiping*  away  her 
tears,  and  struggling  for  composure  to  go  on.  "  But  what  is 
done,  is  done — Worms  and  Speier  are  in  ashes,  and  their  mur- 
dered inhabitants  at  rest.  But,  oh,  my  liege,  my  gicacious  lord, 
the  city  of  Trier  is  threatened  with  the  same  fate  !  For  thi*ee 
days  the  people  have  been  crying  in  vain  for  mercy. — At  your 
feet,  sire,  I  implore  you,  have  pity,  and  save  them  from  butch- 
ery!" 

And  the  duchess,  with  hands  upraised,  and  eyes  that  were 
streaming  with  tears,  sank  on  her  knees  beforo  the  kinff. 

Louis  rose  hastily  from  his  seat. 

"  Rise,  madame,"  said  he,  "  and  let  us  retire  to  yonder  em- 
brasure.    I  wish  to  speak  with  you  in  privaf>e." 

3o  saying,  he  gave  her  his  hand,  and  conducted  her  to  a 
deep  recess  at  the  farther  end  of  the  room,  which  was,  in  fact, 
a  small  apartment  furnished  with  seats — a  cabinet  within  a 
cabinet.  He  loosened  the  gold  cord  that  confined  the  curtain 
to  the  side,  and  it  fell  to  the  floor — a  thick,  heavy  portiere  that 
shut  all  sound  from  the  apartment  without.  Not  satisfied  with 
this,  the  king  opened  the  casement,  that  the  hum  from  the 
street  below  might  effectually  drown  their  voices. 

''  Now,  madame,"  said  he,  ''  we  will  converse  openly  and 
without  reserve,  as  it  befits  near  relatives  to  do.  Has  your 
husband  confided  to  you  my  wishes  ? " 

"  What  wishes  ? "  asked  the  duchess,  who,  in  her  anxiety 
for  the  fate  of  Trier,  had  forgotten  the  occurrences  of  the  day. 

Louis  was  piqued.  "  I  allude  to  my  matrimonial  plans  for 
your  son  and  my  daughter ;  and  I  beg  you  to  observe  that 
where  I  have  a  right  to  command,  I  am  gracious  enough  to  re- 
quest their  fulfilment.  It  is  understood  that  the  Duke  de 
Chartres  is  to  be  betrothed  to  Mademoiselle  de  Blois  this  even- 
ing?" 

"Sire,"  murmured  Elizabeth-Charlotte,  who  began  to  un- 
derstand how  much  she  was  risking  by  her  mediation  in  favor 
of  Trier,  "  sire,  I  implore  you  to  save  the  lives  of  thousands  of 
human  beings,  and  you  answer  me  by  questions  as  to  the  mar- 
riage of  my  son  I " 


464:  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

**My  dear  sister,"  returned  the  king,  with  a  smile,  "surely 
you  take  more  interest  in  the  fate  of  your  child,  than  in  that 
of  a  remote  town  in  Germany.  My  brother  has  already  con- 
sented that  our  children  should  be  united ;  and,  as  you  are 
here,  I  wish  to  hear  from  your  own  lips  that  the  union  gives 
you  as  much  satisfaction  as  it  will  afford  to  me." 

"  Sire,  the  Duke  de  Chartres  is  but  a  lad — wild  and  un- 
tamed.    He  is  not  fit  to  be  the  husband  of  any  woman." 

The  king  frowned.     "  What  do  you  mean  ? " 

"  Sire,  he  is  but  sixteen  years  of  age — a  boy  ;  and  it  is  not 
customary  for  princes  of  the  blood  to  marry  before  the  age  of 
eighteen." 

"  I  know  that  as  well  as  yourself.  It  is  no  question  of  mar- 
riage, only  one  of  betrothal.  Mademoiselle  de  Blois  is  but 
twelve,  and  no  fitter  to  be  married  than  your  son.  But  it  is 
well  for  young  people  to  know  that  they  are  bound  by  honor 
to  restrain  their  passions  and  curb  their  irregularities.  If  the 
Duke  de  Chartres  is  untamed,  you  have  the  means  of  keeping 
him  within  bounds,  and  of  forcing  him  to  lead  a  chaste  and 
virtuous  life." 

"  Oh,  sire,  you  know  full  well  that  the  promises  of  their 
parents  do  not  bind  youthful  hearts.  My  Philip  is  inclined  tc 
dissipation,  and  it  would  be  an  unfortunate  match  for  Made- 
moiselle de  Blois." 

"  Give  me  a  direct  answer  to  my  inquiry.  Do  you  consent 
to  the  betrothal  of  your  son  with  my  daughter  ? " 

Elizabeth-Charlotte  burst  into  tears.  "  Sire,  I — I— cannot," 
murmured  she. 

The  king  fiushed  with  anger.  "I  thought  so,"  said  he. 
"  You  are  nothing  but  a  mass  of  prejudices,  which  you  would 
rather  die  than  relinquish.  Very  well,  madame  ;  I  bow  to 
your  prejudices,  and  will  make  no  vain  efforts  to  overcome 
them.  Excuse  me  if,  as  regards  your  petition,  I  echo  your 
words,  '  I  cannot.' " 

"  Oh,  sire,"  cried  the  duchess,  "  the  cases  are  not  parallel. 
I  plead  for  the  lives  of  so  many  unfortunates  ! " 

"  And  I  for  my  own  gratification  ;  and  assuredly  a  wish  of 
the  King  of  France  is  of  a  little  more  importance  than  the  fate 
of  a  miserable  German  town." 


THE  DELIVERANCE  OF  TRIER.  465 

*'  Your  majesty,  it  would  cost  you  but  a  word  to  earn  the 
blessings  of  so  many  grateful  hearts." 

"  And  it  would  cost  you  but  a  word  to  give  rank  and  an 
unequivocal  position  to  my  favorite  daughter.  For  if  a  wom- 
an like  yourself,  recognized  as  a  model  of  propriety,  acknowl- 
edge her  as  your  son's  bride,  you  insure  an  honorable  future 
to  all  my  children  not  born  to  the  throne.  It  is  in  your  power 
to  raise  Mademoiselle  de  Blois  to  the  rank  of  a  legitimate  prin- 
cess of  the  blood,  and  thereby  to  confer  a  favor  upon  her  father." 

"  Oh,  sire,  indeed  I  cannot !  Ask  any  thing  of  me  but  that  t 
It  would  give  the  lie  to  all  the  teachings  of  my  Uf  e  !  It  would 
be  an  acknowledgment  of  the  worthlessness  of  chastity — of 
honor  !  Oh,  forgive  me  I  My  brain  reels  ;  I  know  not  what 
I  say  I " 

"  But  I  do;  and  I  have  heard  enough.  I  shall  counter- 
mand the  soiree,  and  seek  another  bridegroom  for  Mademoiselle 
de  Blois.  But  Trier  shall  fall,  and  on  your  head  be  the  fate 
of  its  inhabitants  ! " 

He  rose  and  would  have  put  aside  the  portiere,  but  his  hand 
was  convulsively  clutched,  and  the  duchess,  in  a  voice  that 
was  hoarse  with  agony,  gasped  : 

"  Have  I  understood  ?  You  would  barter  the  fate  of  Trier 
for  my  consent  to  this  unnatural  marriage  I  " 

"  Yes,  by  God,  I  do  ! "  was  the  profane  and  passionate  reply 
of  the  king. 

"Stay — stay,"  murmured  she,  trembling  in  every  limb^ 
**  Would  you  rescue  the  city  if  I  consented  ? " 

"I  will  do  so,  with  pleasure." 

The  duchess  shivered,  clasped  her  hands  together,  and^ 
cloeing  her  eyes  as  though  to  hide  her  humiliation  from  Heav- 
en, she  retracted  her  refusal,  and  then  fell  almost  insensible 
into  an  arm-chair. 

The  king  approached  her  and  kissing  her,  said,  *'  Madame,, 
from  my  heart,  I  thank  you." 

The  poor  duchess  scarcely  heeded  these  gracious  words. 
She  had  received  a  blow  that  well-nigh  blunted  her  heart  to 
the  sufferings  of  her  countrymen.  But  she  had  made  the  sac- 
rifice of  her  principles,  and  she  must  reap  the  reward  of  that 
terrible  sacrifice. 


466  PRINCE   EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

■'*Sire,"  said  she,  as  soon  as  she  had  recovered  strength 
enough  to  articulate,  ''  sire,  fulfil  your  promise  immediately, 
or  it  will  be  too  late." 

"  Give  me  your  hand,  dear  sister,"  replied  Louis.  "  Once 
more  I  thank  you  for  the  happiness  you  have  conferred  upon 
me,  and  the  first  gift  of  Mademoiselle  de  Blois  to  her  mother- 
in-law  shall  be  the  safety  of  Trier.  I  implore  you,  try  to 
love  the  poor  child,  for  my  sake." 


CHAPTER  Vn. 

THE  FIRE-TONGS. 

Raising  the  curtain,  Louis  XIV.  offered  his  hand,  and  the 
royal  brother  and  sister-in-law  re-entered  the  cabinet,  where 
their  return  was  eagerly  awaited  by  Madame  de  Maintenon, 
and  uneasily  expected  by  the  minister  of  war. 

"  Monsieur  de  Louvois,"  said  the  king,  "  I  am  in  possession 
of  all  the  details  that  relate  to  the  shameful  abuse  that  has 
been  made  of  my  name  in  Germany.  The  cruel  practices  which 
you  have  authorized  toward  an  innocent  population  must  cease 
at  once,  and  our  troops  be  commanded  to  prosecute  the  war  as 
becomes  the  army  of  a  Christian  nation." 

The  king,  while  he  spoke  these  words,  was  gradually  ad- 
vancing to  his  writing-desk,  which  stood  close  to  the  mantel. 
Seating  himself  in  his  arm-chair,  he  turned  his  countenance 
away  from  the  penetrating  glances  of  De  Maintenon,  and  be- 
gan to  play  with  the  bronze  shovel  and  tongs  that  lay  crossed 
upon  the  fender. 

After  a  pause,  during  which  he  waited  in  vain  for  a  reply 
from  Louvois,  he  resumed :  "  Why  do  you  not  answer  me, 
Louvois  ? " 

"  Sire,  your  wishes  shall  be  fulfilled.  The  next  courier  that 
leaves  for  Germany,  shall  bear  your  royal  commands  to  the 
army,  and  they  shall  be  ordered  to  remain  altogether  on  the 
defensive." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  sir  ? "  cried  the  king. 


THE  riRE-TONGS.  46^ 

"  If  your  majesty  intends  to  treat  your  enemies  with  clem- 
ency, you  must  expect  no  more  victories,  but  remain  content 
with  the  territory  you  have  already  acquired.  What  are  we 
to  do,  if  we  are  crippled  by  injudicious  and  false  humanity"  ? 
Must  we  relinquish  our  claims  ?  Shall  we  content  ourselves 
with  having  made  threats  which  we  are  too  pusillanimous  to 
execute  ? '' 

"  Monsieur,"  said  Louis,  haughtily,  "  you  are  becoming  im- 
pertinent. Cease  your  questions,  and  obey  my  commands. 
Send  off  your  couriers  at  once.  Trier  shall  not  be  destroyed  ; 
nor  shall  its  inhabitants  be  driven  from  their  dwellings.  Pri- 
vate property  shall  be  respected,  and  the  temples  of  the  Most 
High  held  sacred.'' 

''  Sire,"  said  Louvois,  "  I  will  obey  ;  but,  unhappily,  as  re- 
gards Trier,  your  clemency  comes  too  late.     I  cannot  save  it." 

"  Cannot ! "  shouted  Louis,  who  to  please  his  sister-in-law 
had  worked  himself  into  a  veritable  fury.  "  Who  dares  say 
he  cannot,  when  I  command  ? " 

"  Your  majesty,  what  is  done  cannot  be  undone." 

At  these  words  the  king  sprang  from  his  chair,  still  hold- 
ing the  tongs  in  his  hand. 

'*  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  have  ordered  new  atrocities 
to  be  comraited  in  Germany  ? "  exclaimed  he. 

"  Sire,"  replied  Louvois  defiantly,  "  if  it  pleases  you  to  term 
the  necessities  of  war  atrocities,  so  be  it.  The  people  of  Trier 
having  imitated  the  stubbornness  of  those  of  Speier,  I  ordered 
them  to  be  subjected  to  the  same  treatment." 

'•  Sir,"  cried  Louis,  raising  the  tongs,  as  if  he  intended  to 
assail  his  minister  with  them,  "  you  shall  countermand  this 
order  at  once,  or  I  will  smite  you  as  the  lightning  blasts  the 
oak  I "  All  this  time  he  was  advancing,  until  the  tongs  were 
in  dangerous  proximity  with  Louvois'  head.* 

The  minister  was  thoroughly  frightened.  "Sire,"  ex- 
claimed he,  receding  in  terror,  '*  would  you  murder  me  ? " 

"It  would  be  too  honorable  an  end  for  you  to  die  by  my 
hands,"  replied  the  king,  letting  fall  his  tongs.  "  But  this  I 
say  to  you  :  if  Trier  is  destroyed  I  will  make  an  example  of 

♦  IltstoricaL — See  **  Memoirs  of  the  Court  of  France*"  by  tlie  Marauis  de 
Dangeau. 


4:68  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

you  that  shall  deter  any  other  traitor  from  using  my  name  to 
gratify  his  wicked  revenge.  Send  off  your  couriers  ;  nor  re- 
turn to  this  palace  until  you  come  to  inform  me  that  Trier  is 
safe."  So  saying,  the  King  turned  his  hack,  and  began  to  con- 
verse with  Madame  de  Maintenon  on  the  subject  of  an  after- 
noon ride  ;  after  which  he  offered  his  arm  to  his  sister-in-law 
and  conducted  her  himself  to  the  head  of  the  private  staircase. 

He  had  no  sooner  left  the  room  than  Louvois  darted  to  the 
side  of  Madame  de  Maintenon,  who  was  just  about  to  raise  a 
portiere  leading  to  her  own  apartments. 

Catching  her  dress  in  his  agitation,  Louvois  implored  her 
to  remain. 

"  Wherefore,  monsieur  ? "  asked  she,  coldly. 

"  Oh,  madame,  I  fear  that  I  shall  never  be  able  to  rescue 
this  accursed  city,  and,  I  implore  you,  be  my  mediatrix  with 
his  majesty." 

"  On  what  grounds,  monsieur  ? " 

"  Oh,  madame,  you  have  enemies  as  well  as  I :  let  us  make 
a  compact  together,  and  crush  them  all.  Uphold  me  for  this 
once,  and  you  will  not  find  me  ungrateful." 

"  I  fear  no  man's  enmity,"  was  the  reply  of  the  marquise. 
"My  trust  is  in  Grod,  who  ruleth  all  things." 

"  You  refuse  me  then  ? "  said  Louvois. 

"  I  am  not  in  a  position  to  defy  the  king,  and  uphold  his  re- 
bellious subjects.  Were  I  Queen  of  France,  my  influence 
would,  perhaps,  avail ;  as  it  is,  I  would  advise  you  to  make  all 
speed  to  dispatch  your  couriers,  and  thereby  i:escue  Trier  and 
yourself." 

With  these  consolatory  words,  the  marquise  disappeared ; 
and  Louvois,  taking  her  advice,  unpalatable  though  it  was, 
rushed  in  undignified  haste  through  the  corridors,  and 
plunging  into  his  carriage,  was  driven  at  full  gallop  to  his 
hotel. 

Twenty  minutes  later  his  couriers  were  on  their  way.  To 
him  who  arrived  at  Trier  first,  Louvois  promised  a  purse  of  one 
thousand  louis  d'ors,  and,  if  he  reached  the  city  in  time  to  save 
it,  the  sum  was  to  be  doubled. 

Thanks  to  this  reward,  as  well  as  to  the  dilatory  movements 
of  the  courier  that  had  borne  the  order  for  destruction.  Trier 


THE  FIRE-TONGS.  469 

was  saved  on  tlie  very  morning  of  the  day  which  should  have 
been  its  last. 

Louvois  was  ordered  to  bring  the  news  to  the  duchess  in 
person. 

She  was  in  her  cabinet  with  the  Duke  de  Chartres,  who  had 
been  complaining  of  the  ugliness  and  stupidity  of  his  affianced 
bride.  Louvois  was  announced,  and  the  duchess,  in  her  im- 
petuous way,  hurried  to  the  door  and  met  him — not  by  way  of 
welcoming  him,  however. 

"  I  never  expected  to  see  you  here  under  my  roof,"  said  she, 
*'  nor  would  I  receive  you  had  you  not  come  from  his  maj- 
esty." 

"  Madame,  I  will  withdraw  as  soon  as  my  message  is  de- 
livered," replied  Louvois,  haughtily.  "  His  majesty  has  sent 
me  to  announce  to  your  royal  highness  that  Trier  is  safe." 

"  Now,  God  be  thanked  1 "  exclaimed  Elizabeth-Charlotte 
solemnly. 

"  With  your  leave,  madame,  I  withdraw,"  observed  Lou- 
vois. 

"  Not  yet.  You  have  brought  me  tidings  of  one  deliver- 
ance— I  will  impart  to  you  another.  Have  you  any  news  from 
my  poor  Laura  ? " 

A  cloud  overspread  the  minister's  brow.  "I  have  not 
heard  from  her  for  more  than  a  year,  at  which  time  she  fled 
from  her  husband's  castle,  how  or  whither  he  has  never  been 
able  to  discover." 

"  And  you — have  you  no  idea  of  her  whereabouts  ? " 

"She  must  either  have  died,  or  have  retired  to  a  convent." 

"  She  has  done  neither,"  replied  the  duchess. 

*'  She  lives  I "  cried  Louvois,  with  more  terror  in  his  voice 
than  joy. 

'*  Yes  ;  dear,  ill-used  Laura  1  She  lives,  and  lives  happily 
with  him  whose  arm  will  protect  her  against  future  persecu- 
tion." 

**  Youp  poyal  highness  does  not  mean  to  say  that  my  daugh- 
ter has  sought  the  protection  of  Prince  Eugene  ? "  cried  Lou- 
vois. 

"  I  do,  indeed  :  they  are  united  at  last,  whom  you  sought  to 
put  asunder.'* 


4-70  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS   TIMES. 

"  Great  God  ! "  was  the  minister  s  exclamation.  "  She  has 
given  herself  up  to  shame  !  She  lives  publicly  as  the  mistress 
of  a  man  who  was  not  worthy  to  become  her  husband  !  Your 
royal  highness  must  have  been  misinformed." 

"I  have  it  from  herself,  nevertheless." 

"And  your  royal  highness,  that  bears  the  name  of  the 
most  virtuous  woman  in  Paris,  is  not  shocked  at  her  un- 
chastity  ? " 

"  Unchastity  !  You  talk  of  unchastity,  who,  while  she  was 
plighting  her  troth  to  this  same  Eugene,  were  not  ashamed  to 
prostitute  her  to  Strozzi !  Cease  your  disgusting  cant,  and 
learn  that  I  acknowledge  and  respect  the  tie  that  binds  your 
daughter  to  her  real  spouse  :  and  woe  to  you,  if  you  dare 
trouble  the  current  of  her  peaceful  life  !  Farewell.  Say  to 
his  majesty  that  I  shall  be  forever  grateful  for  the  deliverance 
of  Trier." 

"  Philip,"  added  she,  when  Louvois  had  left  the  room,  "  for- 
give me,  beloved  son,  if  I  sacrificed  you  to  the  well-being  of 
my  oppressed  countrymen  !  You  say  that  your  affianced  is 
stupid  ;  but  every  weary  hour  you  spend  in  her  society  shall 
be  repaid  to  you  by  the  blessings  of  those  whom  you  have 
saved  from  assassination.  Moreover,  Mademoiselle  de  Blois 
is  not  yet  your  bride,  and  many  a  thing  may  intervene  to 
prevent  you  from  being  forced  to  espouse  her.  If  your 
mother  can  do  any  thing  to  frustrate  it,  be  sure  that  she 
will  come  to  your  assistance.  Her  consent  was  wrung  from 
her,  'tis  true — but  not  her  willingness." 

"  Laura  the  mistress  of  Eugene  of  Savoy  ! "  muttered  Lou- 
vois, as  he  descended  the  marble  staircase  of  the  ducal  palace. 
"  And  to  propitiate  that  royal  virago,  I  dare  not  revenge  my- 
self !  But  no  !"  said  he  suddenly,  "  no — I  need  not  lift  a  fin- 
ger. I  will  leave  it  to  Barbesieur  ;  he  will  attend  to  it.  He 
will  put  an  end  to  her  infamous  life  ! " 


BRAVE  HEARTS.  47X 

CHAPTER  Vm. 

BRAVE  HEABTS. 

The  embassy  of  Prince  Eugene  to  Turin  had  been  attend- 
ed with  the  happiest  results.  His  arguments  in  favor  of  the 
emperor  had  proved  irresistible,  for  he  had  worked  upon  the 
pride  as  well  as  the  ambition  of  his  kinsman.  He  had  ad- 
dressed him  as  a  "royal  highness  ;  "  had  promised  him  acces- 
sion of  territory  ;  and  finaUy  had  imparted  to  him  a  diplomatic 
secret  which  decided  him  at  once  to  join  the  imperialists.  In 
the  event  of  any  manifestation  on  the  part  of  Victor  Amadeus 
that  was  friendly  toward  the  emperor,  Louvois  had  ordered  Mar- 
shal Catinat  to  lake  him  prisoner,  confine  him  in  the  fortress  of 
PigneroUes,  and  appoint  the  duchess-dowager  Regent  of  Savoy. 

The  astounding  insolence  of  the  French  minister  gained  a 
zealous  partisan  for  Leopold.  "  I  am  yours  and  the  emperor's 
forever,"  cried  the  indignant  duke.  "  And  from  my  heart  I 
hope  that  we  may  both  have  speedy  opportunity  to  avenge  the 
wrongs  we  have  sustained  at  the  hands  of  Louis  XIV.  and 
that  atrocious  villain— Louvois." 

"  As  for  my  wrongs,"  replied  Eugene,  with  a  beaming  smile^ 
•*  they  are  all  forgotten  in  my  excess  of  happiness." 

"  So,  then,  you  are  happy  at  last  ? "  asked  Victor  Amadeus,. 
kindly. 

"  Supremely  blest,"  was  Eugene's  emphatic  reply. 

"  Supremely  blest  ? "  repeated  the  duke,  shaking  his  head. 
**  Pardon  me  if  I  think  otherwise.  Do  you  not  think  that  yo*» 
could  be  made  happier  by  obtaining  the  sanction  of  the  church 
to  your  liaison  with  the  Marchioness  de  Strozzi  ? " 

"'  I  would  be  the  proudest  and  happiest  of  created  beings  if 
I  could  call  her  my  wife,"  sighed  Eugene.  *'  And  since  the 
subject  has  been  broached  between  us,  I  will  confide  in  you. 
I  have  written  to  the  pope  an  account  of  Laura's  fraudulent 
marriage  with  Strozzi,  and  I  hope  that  his  holiness  will  recog- 
nize the  unlawfulness  of  that  wicked  transaction.  It  seems  to 
me  impossible  that  Religion  should  look  upon  it  otherwise 
than  as  an  act  of  falsehood." 


472  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

**  You  have  no  answer  as  yet  from  Borne  ? " 

"  I  expect  an  answer  to-day  ;  and  now,  that  the  crisis  of  my 
Laura's  destiny  is  at  hand,  I  begin  to  be  timorous  as  to  the 
success  of  my  petition.  The  pope  is  not  my  friend  ;  I  have 
upheld  the  Waldenses  against  the  church,  and  have  sought 
their  alliance  for  Austria.  These,  I  know,  are  serious  of- 
fences ;  and  not  less  displeasing  to  his  holiness  will  be  the 
news  of  your  defection  from  France  to  Austria  through  my 
intervention." 

"  True— true,"  said  Victor  Amadeus,  thoughtfully.  "Your 
•embassy  to  Turin  will  prove  prejudicial  to  your  own  inter- 
•ests  at  Eome.  I  am  afraid  they  will  suffer.  And  if  his  holi- 
ness will  not  grant  a  divorce,  what  is  to  become  of  the  mar- 
chioness ?  You  will  not  continue  to  live  with  her  out  of  wed- 
lock?" 

"  Pardon  me,"  replied  Eugene.  "  She  is  mine  in  the  sight 
of  God,  and  man  shall  not  part  us.  Our  union  is  holy  in  our 
own  eyes,  and  we  shall  maintain  its  sanctity  against  the  whole 
world.  It  will  very  soon  forget  us,  and  consign  us  to  the  ob- 
livion we  covet." 

"You  are  not  so  easily  consigned  to  oblivion,  my  dear 
cousin  ;  you  occupy  a  prominent  position  before  the  world, 
and  the  brighter  your  fame  as  a  hero,  the  darker  will  be  tha 
shadow  that  falls  upon  your  mistress.  My  wife  and  I  have 
talked  this  matter  over,  and  we  have  determined  to  make  a 
joint  effort  either  to  have  you  formally  united  at  the  altar,  or 
to  use  our  honest  endeavors  to  induce  you  to  separate.  The 
duchess  has  sent  three  invitations  to  the  marchioness,  every 
one  of  which  has  been  refused." 

"  The  marchioness  desires  no  intercourse  with  the  world. 
She  is  independent  of  its  sanction  or  its  blame." 

"Because,  for  the  present,  her  world  is  concentrated  in 
you.  But  it  will  not  always  be  so  ;  and  the  duchess  has  gone 
this  very  morning  to  pay  her  a  visit,  hoping  to  prove  to  her 
that  a  woman  should  not  only  avoid  wrong,  but  the  appearance 
of  wrong.  At  the  same  time,  we  both  render  ample  justice  to 
the  purity  of  intention  of  the  marchioness." 

"  Not  only  of  intention,  but  of  conduct,"  replied  Eugene. 
*'But  let  us  discuss  other  matters.    The  elector,  Max  Emman- 


BRAVE  HEARTS.  473 

uel,  has  arrived  at  Montcaliers,  the  imperialists  have  joined 
him,  and  the  Spanish  troops  are  on  their  way." 

"  My  array  also  shall  march  to  Montcaliers  to-morrow.  It 
is  time  that  the  atrocities  of  Louis  XIV.  should  cease.  His 
soldiers  have  been  worse  than  an  irruption  of  the  Goths  both 
in  Germany  and  in  Italy." 

"  With  the  help  of  God,  we  will  emulate  their  deeds  in 
France." 

While  the  two  Princes  of  Savoy  were  in  their  cabinet  to- 
gether, the  duchess  was  on  her  way  to  visit  the  marchioness. 
She  was  determined  not  to  give  Laura  the  opportunity  of  deny- 
ing herself.  To  this  end  she  followed  the  lackey  that  an- 
nounced her,  and  as  he  opened  the  door,  and  was  about  to  pro- 
nounce her  name,  she  passed  him  by,  and,  going  directly  up 
to  Laura,  introduced  herself. 

She  was  calmly  and  courteously  received,  and,  after  some 
desultory  conversation,  entered  upon  her  delicate  mission. 

"  I  have  but  one  rule  of  action,"  said  Laura,  in  return,  "  and 
I  cannot  wound  my  own  convictions  by  shaping  my  conduct 
according  to  the  standard  of  others." 

"  But  surely  you  do  not  apply  this  rule  to  your  unlawful 
liaison  with  Prince  Eugene  !  "  exclaimed  the  duchess. 

"  It  is  no  unlawful  liaison,"  replied  Laura,  simply.  "  I  am 
Eugene's  wife  in  his  eyes  and  in  mine  :  we  have  plighted  our 
troth,  and  will  be  faithful  to  our  vows  until  death  ! " 

'*  And  to  this  fidelity  you  sacrifice  your  honor  and  your 
peace  of  mind.  Prince  Eugene  is  but  a  mortal  man.  He  is, 
for  the  time,  desperately  in  love,  and  scorns  all  possibility  of 
change.  But  by-and-by  he  will  begin  to  be  annoyed  by  the 
world's  censure  ;  he  will  be  ashamed  to  be  seen  with  you — " 

"Madame,"  interrupted  Laura,  proudly,  "by  what  right  do 
you  thus  prejudge  the  conduct  of  Prince  Eugene  ?" 

"By  the  right  of  experience,  my  poor  child,  and  of  a  knowl- 
edge of  the  human  heart,  whose  inconsistencies  are  all  un- 
known to  you.  Let  me  relate  to  you  a  history  that  concerns 
me  nearly,  and  has  caused  me  many  a  burning  tear.  My  hus- 
band was  once  beloved  by  a  beautiful  woman,  who,  for  his 
sake,  left  her  husband,  the  court,  and  the  grand  monde,  to  be 
the  solitary  inhabitant  of  a  castle,  which,  to  be  sure,  was  fit  to 


474  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

be  the  abode  of  a  goddess.  She  became  the  mistress  of  the 
Duke  of  Savoy,  who  loved  her  to  distraction.  1,  his  unhappy- 
wife,  had  no  right  to  remonstrate,  for  our  union  was  like  that 
of  princes  generally,  an  affair  of  state  ;  and  Victor  Amadeus 
never  knew  that  my  poor  heart  was  racked  by  jealousy,  and 
that  many  a  time  I  prayed  for  death  as  the  only  remedy  for 
my  anguish.  For  a  time  the  duke  was  contented  to  see  the 
Countess  de  la  Verrue  in  her  castle,  but  by-and-by  he  exacted 
of  this  poor  devoted  creature  another  sacrifice — that  of  return- 
ing with  a  brow  of  shame  to  the  world.  He  fitted  up  a  resi- 
dence for  her  in  Turin  ;  passed  all  his  time  at  her  side  ;  drove 
out  with  her,  and  finally  held  his  levees  at  her  palace.  Now, 
there  were  certain  festivals  de  rigueur  that  were  obliged  to  be 
given  at  the  ducal  palace  ;  and  from  these  festivals  the  count- 
ess would  be  excluded  unless  she  was  invited  by  myself.  I 
had  nothing  to  lose,  and  hoping  to  win  an  approving  smile 
from  Victor,  I  invited  his  mistress,  and,  when  she  entered  the 
hall  of  reception,  placed  her  above  all  possibility  of  slight  by 
advancing  to  meet  her." 

"  That  was  magnanimous  indeed  ! "  exclaimed  Laura. 

The  duchess  smiled.  ''  Do  not  overestimate  the  act,  my 
dear  child.  There  was  quite  as  much  policy  in  it  as  magna- 
nimity. I  know  men  well :  they  are  greater  slaves  to  opinion 
than  women  ;  they  have  not  half  our  moral  courage,  and  not 
one  of  them  can  long  confront  the  disapprobation  of  the  world. 
From  this  day,  a  change  came  over  the  spirit  of  my  husband. 
Seeing  that  the  world  held  me  in  high  esteem  for  my  sacrifice, 
and  held  his  mistress  very  cheaply,  he  began  to  feel  uncom- 
fortable when  he  brought  her  before  its  scrutiny.  From  dis- 
comfort he  proceeded  to  shame,  and  finally  the  day  came — the 
inevitable  day  that  dawns  for  every  woman  who  lays  her  honor 
at  the  feet  of  her  lover.  The  poor  countess  was  reproached  for 
the  sacrifices  she  had  made,  and  blamed  for  her  weakness  in 
yielding  to  the  importunities  of  her  seducer  !  She  fled,  broken- 
hearted from  his  presence,  and,  like  poor  La  Valliere,  took  ref- 
uge in  a  convent.  Oh,  my  dear  young  lady  !  "  continued  the 
duchess,  taking  Laura's  hand  in  her  own,  "  be  warned,  and  do 
not  court  the  fate  of  these  unfortunate  victims  of  man's  incon- 
stancy 1 " 


BRAVE  HEARTS.  475 

"  Madame,"  returned  Laura,  "  their  fate  in  no  way  can  af- 
fect me,  for  I  am  not  the  mistress  of  Prince  Eugene.  He  can 
never  reproach  me  with  weakness,  for  he,  like  myself,  believes 
in  the  holiness  of  our  union.  We  have  been  sinned  against, 
but  are  not  sinning.  No  woman  can  say  of  Eugene  that  he 
has  broken  his  vows  to  her  ;  no  man  can  say  of  me  that  I  have 
been  unfaithful  to  him  !  " 

"You  forget  the  Marquis  de  Strozzi." 

"  Forget  him  !  Great  God  !  Forget  the  villain  who,  un- 
der cover  of  night,  stole  the  vows  I  pledged  to  Eugene,  and 
kept  me  his  prisoner  for  five  long  years  !  No,  madame,  I 
have  not  forgotten  the  Marquis  de  Strozzi ;  but  he  is  no  hus- 
band of  mine.  My  spouse  before  Heaven  is  Prince  Eugene 
— and,  so  help  me  God,  I  will  be  true  to  him  in  life  as  in 
death  ! " 

"  You  are  a  noble  woman  ;  and  your  love,  I  admit,  is  as 
pure  as  that  of  Eve  for  Adam.  But,  for  your  exalted  ideas  of 
duty,  you  will  receive  naught  from  the  world  save  scorn  and 
contumely." 

"  So  be  it.  In  my  Eugene's  love  will  be  my  exceeding  great 
reward.  The  arrows  of  the  world's  contempt  will  fall  harm- 
less at  my  feet,  for  his  dear  arm  will  shield  me  from  their 
sharpness.  My  world  is  Eugene  ;  he  alone  is  my  husband, 
and  my  judge." 

The  duchess  looked  compassionately  at  the  beautiful  en- 
thusiast, and  heaved  a  sigh.  '*  I  cannot  save  you,  my  child  : 
your  resolution  is  mightier  than  my  arguments,  and  I  can 
only  pity  and  love  you.  Farewell !  May  your  heroism  meet 
with  the  reward  it  deserves." 

Laura  accompanied  the  duchess  to  the  door,  and  returned, 
calm  and  serene,  to  her  embroidery-frame.  She  was  working 
a  standard  for  her  beloved  Eugene,  and  appeared  quite  to  have 
forgotten  the  visit  of  the  duchess,  when,  suddenly  her  cheeks 
flushed,  and  she  raised  her  head  to  listen.  She  sprang  from 
her  seat,  crossed  the  room  and  opened  the  door.  Eugene 
came  in,  clasped  her  in  his  arms,  and  imprinted  a  kiss  on  her 
fair  brow. 

"  My  own  love,  my  whit©  swan,"  whispered  he. 

She  lifted  her  magnificent  eyes  to  his,  there  and  he  read  the 


476  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

history  of  her  deep,  deep  love.  They  sat  down  together,  his 
arm  still  around,  her  waist. 

''  Has  the  Duchess  of  Savoy  been  here  ? "  asked  he. 

"  Yes.  She  was  here  to  persuade  me,  for  the  world's  sake, 
to  leave  you." 

"  The  duke  has  been  doing  the  same  by  me,"  said  Eugene. 

And  then  they  smiled.  Neither  one  made  protestations  to 
the  other  ;  neither  one  had  any  thing  to  relate.  The  heaven 
of  their  mutual  trust  was  without  a  cloud. 

Their  silent,  solemn  happiness  was  interrupted  by  a  knock. 
Conrad  came  in  with  two  dispatches — one  from  Germany,  and 
one  from  Eome.  Eugene  took  them  from  the  golden  salver 
on  which  they  lay,  and  said  : 

"With  the  permission  of  the  marchioness,  I  will  read 
item." 

She  bowed  and  smiled  ;  then,  passing  her  arm  through  his» 
led  him  to  a  divan,  and  would  have  had  him  take  a  seat  by  her 
;side. 

"  No,  darling,"  said  he,  gently  putting  her  down  upon  its 
satin  cushions.  "  Lie  there,  while  I  sit  at  your  feet  and  read 
the  fiat  of  Rome." 

He  unfolded  the  letter,  and  read,  Laura  watching  him 
the  while  ;  smoothing  his  hair  with  her  loving  hands,  and 
gazing  in  his  face  with  tenderness  unspeakable.  As  she  gazed 
she  saw  a  cloud  pass  over  his  features  ;  he  looked  up  at  her, 
and  his  eyes  wore  an  expression  of  strange  compassion  and 
sorrow. 

Laura  bent  forward  and  kissed  him.  "  What  ails  my 
love  ? "  said  she. 

''  This  letter  has  destroyed  a  blessed  dream,  beloved.  I  had 
hoped  that  we  had  propitiated  Fate,  and  that  misfortune  had 
ceased  to  follow  us." 

"  Why,  what  have  your  political  papers  to  do  with  our  for- 
tunes ? " 

"  This  is  not  a  political  dispatch,"  replied  Eugene.  "  It  is 
the  answer  to  a  letter  I  addressed  to  Pope  Innocent.  Will 
you  read  it,  dearest  ? " 

She  took  the  paper  from  his  hands,  and  then  began  to 
laugh. 


BRAVE  HEARTS.  477 

**  I  do  not  read  Latin,"  said  she.     "  Translate  it  for  me.'* 

Eugene  then  rose,  put  his  arm  ai'ound  her  and  read  : 

**  The  sacrament  of  marriage  is  holy  and  inviolable,  and  it 
cannot  be  set  aside.  "Woe  be  unto  those  who  deny  its  sanctity 
and  its  irrevocable  pledges  !  The  marchioness  Strozzi  was 
married  by  a  priest,  and  her  witnesses  were  a  father  and  a 
brother.  We  are  under  the  necessity  of  refusing  the  petition 
of  the  Prince  of  Savoy  ;  for,  no  representation  of  intentions 
misdirected,  can  stand  against  the  deliberate  consent  of  the 
parties  to  wedlock,  witnessed  by  honorable  relatives.  We, 
therefore,  call  upon  the  Prince  of  Savoy  to  humble  himself  as 
beseems  a  man  that  has  sinned  against  God  and  the  Church, 
lest  he  incur  her  malediction,  at  the  hands  of  the  vicar  of 
Christ  on  earth." 

The  paper  fell  from  his  hands  and  fluttered  to  her  feet. 

"You  appealed  to  the  pope  to  annul  my  marriage  with 
Strozzi  ? "  asked  she. 

"  Yes,  my  beloved.  I  would  have  aspired  to  the  bliss  of  see- 
ing the  beautiful  Laura  Bonaletta  my  own  wife — my  wife  be- 
fore the  world." 

"  How  good,  how  noble  of  you  ! "  murmured  she.  "  You 
would  have  elevated  poor  Laura  Bonaletta  to  the  height  of 
your  own  greatness,  and  would  have  had  her  bear  your  glori- 
ous name  !  It  would  have  been  too  much  bliss  for  me  to  bear 
that  honored  name,  Eugene  :  and  yet !  oh,  how  I  wish  I 
might  have  called  myself  Princess  of  Savoy  I  This  happiness 
is  denied  me,  and  I  must  submit ;  but  I  will  not  sin  against 
my  conscience,  by  allowing  any  judgment  of  mortal  man  to 
drive  me  from  your  side.  Once  more  I  lay  my  hand  in  yours, 
and  what  God  has  joined  together,  no  power  of  man  shall 
ever  put  asunder." 

Eugene  clasped  her  trembling  hand  in  his,  and,  raising  his 
eyes  to  heaven,  recorded  their  vows. 

After  a  pause,  Laura  resumed  :  "  You  have  another  letter 
to  read,  dear  Eugene.  Perhaps  it  may  console  you  for  our 
own  disappointment.  It  is  from  Germany,  and  will,  doubtless, 
bring  pleasant  tidings." 

Eugene  unfolded  the  dispatch,  with  a  smile  ;  but  scarcely 
bad  he  glanced  at  its  first  words,  when  his  face  grew  pale, 


478  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

and  his  hands  trembled  so  that  he  could  scarcely  hold  the 
paper. 

"  Ah  ! "  cried  Laura,  "  another  disappointment ! " 

"  Oh,  Laura,"  sighed  he,  "  Charles  of  Lorraine  is  no  more." 

"  Your  dearest  friend  ? " 

"  Ay — my  dearest  friend  !  Charles  of  Lorraine  dead  ! — 
And  dead  of  a  broken  heart.  Not  on  the  battle-field,  as  became 
the  greatest  hero  of  his  age,  but  on  a  bed  of  sickness.  No  offi- 
cer by  to  do  him  honor — no  soldiers  there  to  weep  for  their 
adored  commander  !  Oh,  I  would  be  a  happy  man,  could  I 
but  win  the  love  of  my  men  as  he  did,  and  earn  but  one  of 
the  many  laurels  that  were  wreathed  around  his  honored 
head  ! "  * 

"Your  laurels  will  surpass  his,  my  Eugene,"  exclaimed 
Laura,  with  prophetic  love.  "  You  are  destined  to  achieve  im- 
mortality." 

Eugene  shook  his  head,  and,  almost  unconsciously,  mur- 
mured these  lines  of  Homer  : 

"  Like  leaves  on  trees,  the  race  of  man  is  found, 
Now  green  in  youth,  now  withering  on  the  ground; 
Another  race  the  following  spring  supplies, 
They  fall  successive,  and  successive  rise. 
So  generations,  in  their  course,  decay, 
So  flourish  these,  when  those  have  passed  away  I " 

"  Any  admission  within  these  enchanted  walls  ? "  said  a 
gay  voice,  behind  them  ;  and,  starting  up  in  amazement,  they 
beheld  the  tall  figure  of  the  Elector  of  Bavaria,  and  behind 
him,  Conrad,  with  a  perplexed  and  most  distressed  counte- 
nance. 

"  Before  I  say  another  word,  let  me  exonerate  Conrad  from 
any  complicity  in  my  indiscretion,"  said  the  elector  ;  "  for,  I 
must  say,  that  he  told  a  series  of  falsehoods  on  your  account, 
that  will  keep  him  out  of  heaven  for  many  a  month.  But  I 
surprised  him  glancing  uneasily  toward  this  door,  so  I  took 
your  Peter  by  the  shoulders,  put  him  aside,  and  walked  into 
paradise  without  his  permission." 

*  Prince  Eugene's  own  words. — See  Zimmermann. 


BRAVE  HEARTS.  479 

"Very  well,  Conrad,"  said  Eugene;  "you  are  excused." 
And,  takiog  the  hand  of  the  elector,  he  led  him  to  the  mar- 
chioness, and  presented  him  as  his  dearest  living  friend. 

The  elector  kissed  her  hand  and  bent  the  knee  before  her 
as  he  would  have  done  before  an  empress. 

*'  Madonna,"  said  he,  *'  1  bow  before  your  beauty  and  your 
worth.  I  am  a  poor,  sinful  mortal,  but  I  have,  at  least,  an  ap- 
preciation of  heavenly  goodness,  and  I  come  to  do  homage  to 
the  innocence,  the  purity,  and  the  courage  of  my  friend's 
guardian  angel." 

"You  are  most  welcome,  prince  ;  but,  I  pray  you,  rise.  It 
becomes  not  a  hero  like  you  to  kneel  before  poor  Laura  Bo- 
naletta." 

"  I  would  have  died  but  for  her  care,"  said  Eugene,  when 
the  elector  had  accepted  a  seat  at  Laura's  side.  "  She  came  to 
me  through  perils  that  shame  our  every-day  deeds  on  the  field 
of  battle." 

"  I  have  heard  of  her  miraculous  llight  from  one  who  loves 
her  dearly.  We  rejoiced  together  over  the  news  of  her  es- 
cape." 

"  You  allude  to  Lucretia,"  said  Laura — "  how  is  she  ? " 

'•  Like  other  mortals,"  laughed  the  elector  ;  "  loving  to-day 
and  hating  to-morrow,  and,  finally,  discovering  that  lovers' 
hate  is  love.  Neither  you  nor  Eugene  can  understand  these 
vicissitudes  of  sublunary  attachments  ;  for  you  have  nothing 
in  common  with  the  stormy  and  changeful  sea  of  ordinary 
loves.  Heaven  created  you  one  for  the  other,  and  your  lives 
are  a  development  of  that  divine  charity  which  *  believeth  all 
things,  hopeth  all  things,  and  endureth  all  things.' " 


BOOK  Ym. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  ADVANCE  INTO  FRANCE. 

The  war  in  Italy  had  lasted  for  three  years  without  any 
decisive  result  on  either  side.  Here  and  there  some  unimpor- 
tant advantages  had  been  gained  by  the  imperialists,  which  had 
then  been  balanced  by  some  equally  trifling  defeats.  The 
campaign  had  opened  unfortunately.  Against  the  advice  of 
his  generals,  Victor  Amadeus  had  given  battle  to  General  Ca<<- 
inat,  near  the  abbey  of  Staffarda,  and  in  spite  of  all  that  his 
kinsman  Eugene  could  do  by  personal  bravery  to  repair  the 
blunder,  the  imperialists  sustained  a  most  humiliating  defeat. 
Eugene,  however,  had  the  melancholy  satisfaction  of  knowing 
that  he  had  predicted  the  result,  although  his  remonstrances 
had  been  unavailing  to  avert  it. 

This  disaster  had  the  effect  of  cooling  the  zeal  of  Victor 
Amadeus  to  such  an  extent,  that  he  actually  began  to  repent  of 
having  taken  sides  against  the  French.  He  was  too  wary  to  be- 
tray his  state  of  mind  ;  so  he  pretended  great  ardor,  and  called 
urgently  for  re-enforcements.  Backed  by  the  importunities 
of  Prince  Eugene,  he  succeeded  in  obtaining  them,  and  at  their 
head  the  Elector  Max  Emmanuel,  commander-in-chief  of  all 
the  imperial  forces. 

In  spite  of  all  this,  the  war  was  not  vigorously  prosecuted. 
Max  Emmanuel,  although  brave  and  true,  seemed  to  have  lost 
the  qualities  that  had  made  him  a  wise  and  energetic  com- 
mander :  he  lacked  coolness  when  plans  were  to  be  conceived, 
and  decision  when  they  were  to  be  carried  out.  He  left  all 
supervision  to  the  care  of  his  subordinates,  and  spent  his  days 
in  the  pursuit  of  pleasure. 

(480) 


THE  ADVANCE  INTO  FRANCE.  4-81 

All  this  Prince  Eugene  perceived  with  unavailing  regret. 
He  was  powerless  to  prevent  it,  for,  as  the  youngest  of  the 
field-marshals,  his  duty  was  restricted  to  the  mere  execution 
of  the  orders  of  his  superiors.  The  war  dwindled  down  to  an 
insignificant  though  bloody  contest  with  the  mountain  eei*s  of 
Savoy  and  the  Italian  peasantry,  and  things  continued  in  this 
state  until  the  allies  of  the  emperor  manifested  their  discon- 
tent, and  called  for  the  removal  of  Max  Emmanuel.  Field- 
marshal  Carassa  was  recalled,  and,  at  the  beginning  of  the  cam- 
paign of  1692,  the  command  of  the  allied  forces  was  given  to 
Victor  Amadeus,  while  Field-Marshal  Caprara  was  appointed 
second  in  command. 

Circumstances  now  seemed  favorable  to  an  earnest  prosecu- 
tion of  the  war.  The  imperialists  were  assembled  at  one 
point ;  they  were  superior  in  numbers  to  the  enemy,  and  at 
their  head  stood  a  man  who  lost  no  opportunity  to  publish  to  the 
world  his  devotion  to  Austria,  and  his  detestation  of  France. 

Eugene  was  not  as  hopeful  as  the  rest.  He  had  had  enough 
of  valiant  words,  and  was  longing  for  valiant  deeds. 

"  We  must  advance  into  France,"  said  he,  when  the  gener- 
als next  assembled  in  council.  "  We  must  retaliate  upon  the 
people  the  persecutions  of  their  army  in  Germany  and  Italy. 
We  must  enter  by  the  pass  of  Barcelonetta,  which  for  the 
present  is  unguarded.  Before  troops  can  arrive  to  succor  the 
garrison,  we  shall  have  taken  several  more  posts  of  impor- 
tance." 

*'  But  should  we  take,  will  we  be  able  to  hold  them  ? "  asked 
Victor  Amadeus,  affecting  wisdom. 

Eugene's  large  eyes  looked  search ingly  into  the  sealed  book 
of  his  cousin's  shrewd  countenance. 

*'  Your  highness,"  replied  he,  "  above  all  things  let  us  have 
confidence  in  ourselves,  and  let  us  place  some  trust  in  the  for- 
tunes of  war." 

"  Catiuat  is  very  sagacious,"  observed  General  Laganay,  the 
leader  of  the  Spanish  forces.  '*  As  soon  as  we  move  in  the 
direction  of  Barcelonetta,  he  will  re-enforce  the  garrison." 

"Then  so  much  the  more  necessity  for  speed  on  our  part," 
cried  Eu^ne.  "We  must  mislead  the  enemy,  and  make  a 
feint  on  Pignerol.    To  this  end,  let  us  send  a  corps  of  obser- 


482  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

vation  into  Piedmont,  while  we  order  a  detachment  of  dra- 
goons and  infantry  to  possess  themselves  in  all  haste  of  the 
pass." 

The  Duke  of  Savoy  looked  thoughtful,  and  there  was  pro- 
found silence  among  the  members  of  the  war  council.  After 
a  pause  of  some  duration,  Victor  Amadeus  raised  his  head,  and 
gave  a  long  searching  look  at  the  excited  countenance  of  his 
cousin. 

"  The  Prince  of  Savoy  is  right,"  said  he,  at  length.  "  We 
must  avenge  our  wrongs,  and  carry  the  war  into  France.  Our 
way  lies  through  the  vale  of  Barcelonetta,  and  we  must  move 
without  delay." 

The  face  of  Eugene  was  so  lit  up  by  joy  that  his  cousin 
smiled,  and  gave  him  a  significant  look. 

"  I  have  an  account  of  my  own  to  settle  with  France,"  add- 
ed he,  "  and  personal  aflFronts  to  resent.  So  has  my  cousin, 
who  longs  to  avenge  the  injuries  he  has  received  from  Lou- 
vois. " 

"  I  assure  your  royal  highness,"  answered  Eugene,  eagerly, 
"  that  personal  feeling  has  naught  to  do  with  my  opinions  as 
to  the  prosecution  of  this  war.  I  would  despise  myself  if,  in 
what  I  have  spoken  regarding  the  interests  of  the  emperor,  I 
had  been  actuated  by  any  secret  motive  of  aversion  toward  his 
enemies." 

There  was  something  in  this  protest  that  annoyed  Victor 
Amadeus,  for  his  eyes  flashed,  and  his  brows  were  momenta- 
rily corrugated.  But  no  one  knew  better  than  he  how  to  sup- 
press any  symptoms  of  vexation.  It  was  not  convenient  to 
evince  displeasure,  and  he  composed  his  features  back  to  se- 
renity. 

''  Members  of  this  council  of  war,  and  ofiicers  of  the  impe- 
rial army,"  said  he,  with  an  appearance  of  solemn  earnestness, 
"  we  must  act  promptly  and  energetically.  Let  us  prove  to  our 
allies,  and  to  all  Europe,  that  we  know  how  to  avenge  the 
wrongs  of  our  countrymen.  We  pass  the  boundary-lines  of 
France  I " 

And  every  preparation  was  made  to  carry  out  this  deter- 
mination. The  army  was  to  advance  in  three  divisions,  and 
Prince  Eugene  was  to  lead  the  vanguard. 


THE  ADVANCE  INTO  FRANCE.  483 

His  way  lay  through  the  mountainous  districts  of  Savoy  ; 
but,  with  experienced  guides  to  lead  them,  the  dragoons  were 
able  to  defile  through  secret  passes  unknown  to  any  but  the 
natives,  and  to  arrive  unsuspected  upon  the  frontiers  of  France. 

The  peasant  that  preceded  Prince  Eugene  stopped  for  a 
while,  and,  raising  his  arm,  pointed  onward. 

"  This  is  France,"  said  he.  "  Yonder  is  Barcelonetta,  and 
the  towers  you  see  beyond  are  those  of  the  fortress  of  Guil- 
lestre." 

Eugene  thanked  him,  and  put  spurs  to  his  horse.  On  the 
frontier  he  drew  in  his  rein,  surveyed  the  lovely  green  plain 
before  him,  and  addressed  the  Prince  de  Commercy. 

"  I  have  kept  the  promise  I  made  in  Hungary,"  said  he. 

'*  I  remember  it,"  replied  De  Commercy.  "  I  had  been  tell- 
ing you  that,  after  hearing  of  your  heroic  deeds  in  the  em- 
peror's service,  Louvois  had  said  :  '  Let  Prince  Eugene  beware 
how  he  attempts  to  return  to  France  ! '  And  your  reply  was 
this  :  *I  shall  return,  but  it  shall  be  sword  in  hand.' "  * 

**  And  we  are  here — my  good  sword  and  I.  Nine  years  ago, 
I  left  my  native  country,  a  miserable  and  despairing  youth." 

"  And  you  return  a  great  general,  and  one  of  the  happiest 
men  aJive,"  cried  De  Commercy. 

'*  Ay,"  murmured  Eugene,  "  one  of  the  happiest  men  alive  ! 
— so  happy,  that  methinks  the  contrarieties  of  life  are  so  many 
vaporous  clouds,  that  throw  but  a  passing  shadow  over  the 
fa<^  of  heaven,  and  then  melt  into  the  azure  of  resplendent 
day.  From  my  heart  I  thank  indulgent  Destiny  for  her  bless- 
ings!" 

*' Destiny  that  was  mightier  than  the  puny  enmity  of  a 
Louvois  !  Well — we  have  had  our  fill  of  glory  in  Hungary 
and  Italy.    I  hox)e  we  shall  find  a  few  laurels  here  in  France." 

"  I  hope  so,"  said  Eugene,  moodily, ''  though  oftentimes  I — '* 

"  Why  do  you  hesitate  ?  What  do  you  fear  ? "  asked  De 
Commercy. 

"  I  fear,"  replied  Eugene,  lowering  his  voice.  "  that  we  will 
not  be  allowed  to  pluck  laurels  that  grow  on  French  soil." 

**  Do  you  think  the  French  will  outnumber  us  ? " 

**  No,**  sighed  Eugene,  "  the  enemy's  numbers  give  me  no 

♦  Historic*!. — See  Armath,  •*Prince  Eugene  of  Savoy,"  voL  L 


484  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND   HIS    TIMES. 

uneasiness  :  I  am  afraid  of  our  own  weakness.     We  lack  tlie 
morale— the  will  to  conquer." 

"  Why  surely,  Eugene,  you  lack  neither,"  replied  De  Com- 
mercy. 

"  As  if  J  had  any  voice  in  these  councils  !  Were  it  left  with 
me  to  manoeuvre  this  army,  I  would  lead  it  to  Paris  in  two 
weeks.  But,  unhappily,  you  and  I  are  but  the  instruments  of 
the  will  of  our  superiors.  I  will  not  conceal  from  you,  my 
friend,  the  impatience  with  which  I  submit  to  carry  out  orders 
against  which  my  judgment  continually  rebels  ;  and  how 
weary  I  am  of  serving,  where  I  feel  that  I  ought  to  command. 
You  know  me  too  well  to  suspect  me  of  the  meanness  of  a 
mere  lust  for  distinction.  Had  we  a  true  or  competent  leader, 
I  would  be  content  to  remain  where  I  am,  as  youngest  field- 
marshal  in  the  army — in  the  fiith  rank  ;  but — " 

"  But  you  consider  Victor  Amadeus  as  incapable  as  Max 
Emmanuel  ? " 

"  Max  was  not  incapable,"  said  Eugene,  as  though  speaking 
to  himself.  "  True,  he  exhibited  none  of  those  great  qualities 
which  distinguished  him  in  Hungary  ;  or  perhaps  he  was 
shrewd  enough  to  perceive  that  no  amount  of  generalship 
could  prevail  against  the  dulness  of  his  German  officers,  the 
ill-will  of  the  Spaniards,  and  the  irresolution  of  the  Duke  of 
Savoy.  I  believe  he  concluded  to  let  things  take  their  course, 
and  cause  his  own  removal.  But  he,  at  least,  was  honest. 
He  was  not  casting  his  eyes  about,  to  see  on  which  side  lay  his 
own  interest.  His  countenance  is  a  true  reflex  of  his  soul — 
and  what  he  says,  he  means." 

"  And  by  this  you  wish  me  to  infer  that  such  is  not  the  case 
with  our  present  commander-in-chief  ? "  asked  De  Commercy. 

Eugene  bent  his  head  in  token  of  assent,  and  gazed  for  a 
moment  at  the  country  which  lay  before  them.  ''We  will 
capture  Barcelonetta,"  said  he,  "  Gillestre,  and  perhaps  Em- 
brun,  provided  we  are  too  rapid  in  our  movements  for  the 
duke  to  circumvent  us  by  countermanding  orders.  We  must 
strive  to  make  retreat  impossible,  but  we  must  not  lose  sight  of 
Victor  Amadeus.  We  must  watch  him  closely,  and  be  on  our 
guard  against — " 

"  Against  what  ? "  asked  De  Commercy. 


THE  RAVENS.  485 

"  Against  treason,"  whispered  Eugene. 

"  How  !    You  think  it  possible  that — " 

''  That  while  the  road  to  Paris  is  open  before  us,  we  never 
get  farther  than  Embrun.  Unless  we  are  wary,  De  Com- 
mercy,  we  shall  be  betrayed  and  sold  to  the  enemy. — But  look  ! 
Here  come  our  vanguard.  You  can  indulge  your  fancy  for 
rural  scenery,  while  I  go  to  receive  them."  And  Eugene'  gal- 
loped back  to  his  men,  who  received  him  with  shouts  of  en- 
thusiasm. 

"  My  braves,"  said  he,  unsheathing  his  sword,  and  pointing 
to  the  smiling  plains  beyond,  "  my  braves,  this  is  France  !  the 
enemy's  country,  which  we  are  here  to  conquer  ! " 

The  troops  responded  with  a  yell  that  betokened  their 
readiness  for  the  bloody  work. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  RAVENS. 

The  men  were  allowed  an  hour's  rest  to  feed  their  horses 
and  prepare  their  dinners.  Fires  were  lighted,  vivandidres 
went  hither  and  thither,  wishing  that  they  could  multiply 
themselves  to  answer  the  demands  of  the  hungry  soldiers. 
Here  and  there  were  picturesque  groups  of  men  reclining  un- 
der the  trees,  some  chatting,  some  smoking,  others  singing 
songs  of  home. 

This  bivouac  was  a  pleasant  scene  to  look  upon  ;  but  its 
peace  was  like  the  stillness  that  precedes  a  storm.  A  few 
hours  might  change  these  light-hearted  human  beings  into 
mangled  corpses,  and  dye  this  velvet  sward  with  human 
blood. 

Eugene  had  dismounted,  and,  accompanied  by  one  of  his 
staff-officers,  mingled  with  the  merry  crowd.  Everywhere  he 
was  greeted  with  demonstrations  of  affection  and  contemplated 
with  unmistakable  admiration.  Sometimes  he  paused  awhile 
to  chat  with  the  soldiers,  of  their  families  at  home  ;  often  ac- 
cepting the  bread  they  offered,  and  tasting  of  the  soup  that  was 
being  distributed  by  the  vivandidres. 


486  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

Now  and  then  a  gruff  voice  was  heard  calling  out  to  the 
"  little  Capuchin,"  as  the  soldiers  were  accustomed  to  designate 
Eugene,  through  fondness.  At  such  times,  he  smiled,  nodded, 
and,  when  his  officers  would  have  chided  the  men  for  their 
familiarity,  hesought  them  not  to  reprove  them  for  a  jest  so 
harmless. 

"  Why  do  you  look  so  melancholy,  lieutenant  ? "  asked  he 
of  a  young  officer,  who,  apart  from  his  comrades,  was  leaning 
against  a  tree,  gazing  intently  in  the  distance. 

The  officer  appeared  to  waken  from  a  fit  of  abstraction,  for 
he  gave  a  slight  start,  and  removed  his  cap. 

"  Are  you  not  pleased  at  our  invasion  of  France  ?  *'  asked 
Eugene. 

"  Ay,  that  am  I,"  replied  he,  with  a  bitter  smile.  "  I  have 
long  hoped  for  this  invasion,  and  I  thank  God  that  it  is  at 
hand." 

"  You  are  ambitious  to  wear  the  epaulets  of  a  captain,  I 
presume  ? " 

"No,  general,  no.     I  care  ijothing  for  military  finery." 

"  Why,  then,  have  you  longed  to  march  to  France  ? " 

"  Because  I  hunger  and  thirst  for  French  blood.  General, 
I  implore  you,  give  me  a  body  of  men,  and  let  me  initiate  our 
invasion  of  France  by  giving  the  French  a  taste  of  guerrilla 
warfare." 

"  Are  you  so  sanguinary,  young  man  ? "  asked  Eugene,  in 
amazement.  "Do  you  not  know  that  war  itself  should  be 
conducted  with  humanity,  and  that  we  should  never  forget 
our  common  brotherhood  with  our  enemies  ! " 

"  No,  general,  I  know  it  not,  nor  do  I  wish  to  know  it.  I 
know  that  the  French  have  left  me  without  kindred,  without 
home,  without  ties ;  and  that  they  have  transformed  me — a 
man  whose  heart  once  beat  with  sympathy  and  love  for  all 
living  creatures — into  a  tiger,  that  craves  blood,  and  mocks  at 
suffering." 

"  Unhappy  man  ! "  exclaimed  Eugene,  sadly.  "  Then  you 
have  suffered  wrong  at  the  hands  of  the  French  ? " 

The  young  man  heaved  a  convulsive  sigh. 

"  I  come  from  the  Palatinate,"  said  he.  "  My  parents'  house 
was  fired,  my  father  murdered,  and  my  mother  driven  out  into 


THE  RAVENS.  487 

the  woods,  where  she  perished.  But  this  is  not  all.  I  loved  a 
maiden — a  beautiful  and  virtuous  maiden,  to  whom  I  was  be- 
trothed. O  God  I  that  I  should  have  lived  to  see  it  I  General, 
the  name  of  my  betrothed  was  Marie  Wengelin." 

'*  Marie  Wengelin  !  "  echoed  Eugene,  with  a  shudder.  "  I 
have  heard  of  her  tragic  end.  It  was  she  that  delivered  Ess- 
lingen,  but  was — " 

*'  Marie  I  Marie  I "  cried  Caspar,  hiding  his  face  with  his 
hands. 

Ehigene  kindly  touched  him  on  the  shoulder.  "  Unfortu- 
nate young  man,"  said  he,  ''  from  my  soul  I  pity  you,  and  well 
I  understand  your  hatred  of  the  Frenchman." 

''Dear  general,  give  me  the  command  of  a  body  of  ma- 
rauders that  shall  clear  the  way  for  our  army.  There  is  many 
a  man  in  our  regiment  as  eager  for  revenge  as  I ;  let  us  be 
consolidated  into  one  corps,  and  where  bloody  work  is  to  be 
done,  confide  it  to  us." 

Eugene  thought  for  a  moment,  and  then  replied  :  "  So  be 
it ;  you  shall  have  your  wish.  Select  one  hundred  men,  of 
whom  you  shall  be  captain,  and  come  to  me,  individually  for 
your  orders,  reporting  also  to  myself,  and  not  to  my  officers. 
I  will  give  you  opportunity  to  distinguish  yourself,  young 
man  ;  but  remember  that  it  is  one  thing  to  be  a  hero,  and  an- 
other to  be  a  cutthroat.  Retaliate  upon  the  men,  but  spare 
the  women.  If,  in  every  Frenchman,  you  see  a  Melac,  look 
upon  every  woman  as  your  Marie.  Will  you  promise  me 
this?" 

''I  will,  general.  At  last  I  shall  have  vengeance,  I  shall 
serve  my  country,  and  when  my  work  is  done,  may  God  re- 
lease me  from  this  fearful  earthly  bondage  1 " 

"  Utter  no  such  sinful  wishes.  Believe  me,  there  is  balm 
for  every  wound  ;  and  I,  who  tell  you  this,  have  suflPered  un- 
speakably." 

"  General,  my  Marie  is  dead,  and  died  by  her  own  hand." 

'*  She  died  the  death  of  a  heroine.  But  for  you,  it  is  hero- 
ism to  live,  and  so  to  live  that  the  world  may  esteem  you 
worthy  of  having  been  loved  by  Marie  Wengelin.  Ah  1  you 
are  no  cutthroat.  I  see  it  in  the  glance  of  your  eye,  in  the 
tremor  of  your  lip.  You  shall  have  command  of  the  guerrillas ; 
82 


488  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

for  you  will  not  be  barbarous  in  your  warfare.  What  is  your 
name  ? " 

''  Caspar  Werner." 

"  Give  me  your  band,  Caspar  Werner,  and  promise  me  that 
you  will  go  through  life  with  the  fortitude  that  becomes  a 
brave  man." 

Caspar  grasped  Eugene's  extended  hand.  "  Yes,  general,  I 
promise.  I  will  be  worthy  of  my  Marie — worthy  of  your 
kindness  to-day  ;  and  from  this  hour  forth  I  am  yours  for  life 
or  death." 

Eugene  gazed  admiringly  into  the  handsome  face  of  the 
trooper.  "  I  will  do  all  that  lies  in  my  power  to  lessen  your 
troubles,  Caspar,  and  you  shall  be  under  my  own  special  pro- 
tection.    How  soon  will  you  be  able  to  organize  your  corps  ? " 

"In  ten  minutes,  general." 

Eugene  shook  his  head  incredulously. 

"  You  will  see,  general,"  said  Caspar.  "  We  are  all  prepared, 
and  awaited  nothing  but  your  consent.  Now  look  !  The  men 
have  just  risen  from  dinner.  Will  you  allow  me  to  present 
them  now  ? " 

"  Certainly.     I  will  wait  for  them  here." 

Caspar  leaped  on  his  horse,  which  was  close  at  hand,  graz- 
ing, and  galloped  to  the  spot  where  the  soldiers  had  bivouacked. 
Eugene,  who  was  now  joined  by  several  of  his  staff,  followed 
his  movements  with  great  interest. 

The  trooper  came  so  suddenly  upon  his  comrades,  that  not 
one  of  them  had  been  aware  of  his  approach.  They  went  on 
chatting  and  smoking  until,  all  of  a  sudden,  were  heard  these 
few  words  :  "  Ravens,  to  horse  ! " 

In  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  every  man  stood  erect.  For 
the  second  time,  Caspar  called  out,  "  Ravens,  to  horse  ! "  when 
their  hands  were  on  the  bridle,  and  in  less  than  five  minutes 
they  were  all  mounted. 

Before  ten  minutes  had  expired,  the  Ravens  had  defiled  be- 
fore Prince  Eugene,  who  contemplated,  with  a  sort  of  grim 
satisfaction,  their  stalwart  forms,  their  resolute,  bronzed  faces, 
and  their  fiery,  flashing  eyes. 

He  signed  to  Caspar  to  approach. 

''Gentlemen,"  said  he  to  his  officers,  "let  me  present  to 


THE  RAVENS.  489 

you  Captain  Werner  of  the  — th.  He  is  in  command  of  an  in- 
dependent corps  who  call  themselves  '  The  Kavens,'  but  in  their 
aspirings  emulate  the  eagle.'' 

'*  General,"  said  Caspar,  "  give  the  word,  and  let  your  Ka- 
rens fly." 

"You  have  it,"  replied  Eugene,  smiling.  "Yonder  are  the 
towers  of  Barcelonetta.  On  our  march  thither  are  two  forts  ; 
they  would  inconvenience  our  advance,  and  must  be  taken." 

"  They  shall  be  taken,"  was  the  reply,  and  in  a  few  mo- 
ments the  Ravens  had  flown,  and  were  no  longer  to  be  seen. 

One  hour  later  the  vanguard  of  the  imperial  army  resumed 
its  march.  Nothing  checked  their  advance,  for  the  Ravens 
had  carried  every  thing  before  them.  Barcelonetta,  terrified 
at  the  fate  of  the  two  other  forts,  held  out  the  white  flag  ;  and, 
by  the  time  Prince  Eugene  had  arrived,  a  procession  was  on 
its  way  to  deliver  into  his  hands  the  keys  of  the  fortress.  The 
clergy,  in  full  canonicals,  were  at  their  head,  and  after  them  a 
troop  of  young  girls  dressed  in  white,  the  first  of  whom  pre- 
sented the  keys  on  a  silk  cushion,  and  petitioned  "  the  great 
hero"  for  mercy. 

"  Oh,  my  mother  ! "  thought  he,  as  he  took  the  keys,  "  you 
the  avenged.  The  despised  abbe  has  proved  to  the  King  of 
France  that  he  is  not  a  weakling  unworthy  of  wearing  a 
sword  I " 

They  tarried  but  a  night  at  Barcelonetta.  On  the  morrow 
they  captured  Guillestre,  and  set  out  for  Embrun,  where  they 
expected  to  be  joined  by  the  main  army. 

Embrun  resisted  for  twenty-four  hours,  but  at  the  end  of 
that  time  it  fell,  and  Victor  Amadeus  took  up  his  headquarters 
there,  while  Eugene  marched  on  to  Gab.  He  had  been  pre- 
ceded by  the  Ravens,  who,  in  imitation  of  their  enemies,  had 
driven  the  people  from  their  houses,  and  had  set  fire  to  whole 
villages,  cutting  down  all  who  offered  resistance. 

And,  while  they  transformed  the  beautiful  plains  of  Dau- 
phine  into  a  waste,  and  marked  their  path  forward  by  smok- 
ing ruins,  they  shouted  in  the  ears  of  the  unhappy  fugitives  : 
"  Revenge  I    Revenge  for  the  woes  of  Germany  1 " 

"  Revenge  for  the  woes  of  Germany  ! "  cried  the  Ravens,  as 
they  leaped  from  their  horses  to  storm  the  walls  of  Gab. 


490  PRINCE  EUGENE   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

But  no  answer  was  made  to  their  challenge,  for  not  a  soul 
was  there  to  give  back  a  defiant  word.  The  gates  stood  open, 
the  walls  were  unguarded,  and,  when  the  dragoons  entered 
the  town,  they  found  not  one  living  being  whereon  to  wreak 
their  vengeance.  So  hasty  had  been  the  flight  of  the  inhabit- 
ants that  they  had  left  their  worldly  goods  behind,  and  their 
houses  looked  as  though  the  owners  had  but  just  absented 
themselves  for  an  hour  or  so  to  attend  church,  or  celebrate 
some  public  festival. 

The  Ravens  took  possession,  and,  when  Prince  Eugene  ar- 
rived, he  found  the  Austrian  flag  waving  from  the  towers,  and 
that  of  Savoy  streaming  above  the  gates. 

"You  have  done  your  work  quickly,"  observed  he  to 
Caspar. 

"There  was  nothing  to  do,  general,"  was  the  reply. 
"  There  is  not  a  living  soul  of  them  within  the  walls.  And 
now,  your  highness — a  boon  ! " 

"What  is  it?" 

"General,  recall  to  your  mind  Speier  and  Worms,  and 
grant  us  leave  to  find  our  retaliation  for  their  destruction  in 
Gab." 

"You  say  there  is  not  a  living  soul  in  Gab?  Are 
there,  then,  no  women,  no  children,  no  superannuated  or 
infirm  ? " 

"  General,  every  house  is  empty.  I  found  but  one  living 
creature  in  Gab — a  young  girl  who  lay  sick  in  bed — too  sick 
to  move." 

"  Alone  ?  forsaken  ? " 

"  Forsaken,  general,  save  by  one  little  dog  that  had  just  ex- 
pired at  the  side  of  her  bed,  for  its  body  was  warm  and 
supple." 

"  And  the  poor  girl  ? " 

"She  was  dying." 

Eugene's  large,  questioning  eyes  were  upon  Caspar's  face, 
and  their  expression  was  anxious  and  painful.  "  Caspar,  did 
you  remember  your  promise  ? " 

"  Yes,  general,  I  did.  The  maiden  asked  for  water,  and  I 
held  the  cup  to  her  lips.  I  seated  myself  at  her  bedside,  and, 
while  my  comrades  sacked  the  town,  I  soothed  her  last  mo- 


THE  RAVENS.  491 

raents.  When  all  was  over,  I  covered  her  face,  and  left  the 
house." 

Eugene  extended  his  hand.  "You  acted  nobly,  Cas- 
par." 

"  Nay,  general,"  replied  Caspar,  his  eyes  filling  with  tears, 
"her  name  was — Marie  ! — But  now,  that  I  can  assui*e  you  on 
my  honor  that  there  is  no  creature  to  molest  in  the  town,  I 
once  more  present  the  petition  of  my  men.  They  ask  for  per- 
mission to  destroy  Gab." 

Eugene  pondered  for  a  moment,  and  then  gave  his  consent. 
**  Let  them  do  what  they  choose  with  the  town." 

Then,  turning  to  the  Prince  de  Commercy,  "I  begin  to 
think,"  said  he,  ''  that  I  have  done  injustice  to  Victor  Ama- 
deus.  It  was  he  who,  contrary  to  the  opinions  of  his  oflB.cei*s, 
ordered  the  advance  to  Gab.  He  will  be  delighted  and  sur- 
prised to  hear  that  we  have  possession  of  the  fortress  already, 
for  he  was  anxious  to  be  with  us  at  the  siege." 

"  I  can  believe  it :  he  may  well  desire  the  honor  of  captur- 
ing one  stronghold  in  France,  when  his  cousin  has  already 
reduced  two. — But  look,  Eugene,  at  yonder  courier  coming  to- 
ward us — he  seems  to  be  in  haste." 

The  courier  came  on,  his  horse  flecked  with  foam,  himself 
covered  with  dust ;  and,  no  sooner  had  he  approached  within 
hearing,  than  he  called  in  a  loud  voice  for  "  Field-Marshal,  the 
Prince  of  Savoy." 

An  orderly  conducted  him  at  once  to  the  prince,  to  whom 
he  delivered  a  package  from  his  highness  the  Duke  of  Savoy. 

Eugene  broke  the  seals,  and  began  to  read.  His  brows 
met,  and,  as  he  looked  up  from  the  perusal  of  his  dispatches, 
his  face  was  expressive  of  extreme  annoyance. 

**  It  is  well,"  said  he  to  the  courier.  "  Say  to  his  highness 
that  we  will  obey.  Monsieur  de  Commercy,  let  us  ride  to- 
gether up  the  heights,  whence  we  may  have  a  full  view  of  Gab 
and  our  troops." 

They  set  their  horses  in  motion,  and  in  a  few  moments  had 
reached  the  summit  of  the  hill.  Here  Eugene  reined  in  his 
horse,  and  reopened  his  dispatch. 

"  Here  we  are  alone,  Commercy.  Let  me  read  you  the  let- 
ter of  my  well-beloved  cousin  and  commander-in-chief : 


^92  PRINCE   EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

" '  My  dear  kinsman  and  distinguished  field-marslial :  To 
my  unspeakable  regret,  I  am  deprived,  by  a  serious  illness,  of 
taking  part  in  the  attack  upon  Gab.  My  physicians  have  or- 
dered me  back  to  Embrun,  there  to  await  the  result.  These 
presents  will  convey  to  the  advance  guard  my  command  to 
retreat  to  Embrun  until  further  orders.  It  is  my  intention 
(unless  I  succumb  before  your  arrival)  to  hold  a  council  of 
war  ;  and,  to  this  intent,  I  require  the  presence  of  all  the  gen- 
eral officers.  Hasten,  therefore,  my  dear  Eugene,  lest  you 
should  find  me  no  longer  alive ;  and  believe  that,  living  or 
dying,  I  am,  as  ever,  your  devoted  kinsman  and  friend. 

(Signed)  *' '  Victor  Amadeus,  Duke  of  Savoy.' " 

"  Do  you  believe  all  this  ? "  asked  De  Commercy. 

"  Stay  till  you  hear  the  postscript  from  his  own  hand  : 

" '  My  dear  cousin  :  You  must  pardon  my  egotistic  ambi- 
tion, if  I  do  not  allow  the  siege  of  Gab  to  be  prosecuted  with- 
out me.  I  am  very  desirous  of  glory,  and  perchance  your 
laurels  have  contributed  to  my  indisposition.  At  any  rate,  be- 
fore you  take  a  third  fortress,  I  must  have  my  opportunity  of 
capturing  two.  So,  instead  of  attacking  Gab,  come  to  Embrun 
to  the  relief  of 

" '  Yours,  besieged  by  illness,  V.  A.' " 

"  I  repeat  my  question — do  you  believe  in  his  illness  ? " 

"  And  you — do  you  believe  in  his  ambition  ? " 

*'  Why  not  ?    He  avows  it  openly." 

"  For  which  very  reason,  it  has  no  existence.  Victor 
Amadeus  is  too  crafty  to  make  such  an  avowal  in  good  faith. 
He  never  says  what  he  thinks,  nor  does  he  ever  think  what  he 
says.  No,  no — my  poor  little  leaflets  of  laurel  would  have 
given  him  no  uneasiness,  had  they  not  been  plucked  on  French 
soil  ! — But  we  must  wait  and  see.  The  main  i)oint  is  to  retreat 
to  Embrun." 

"  And  Gab  ?  Will  you  retract  your  gift  of  its  empty  houses 
totheEavens?" 

"No.  My  instructions  were  not  to  besiege  Gab.  It  sur- 
rendered before  they  reached  me,  and  I  shall  leave  it  to  the  sol- 


SICK  AND  WELL.  493 

diery.  As  for  you  and  me,  we  must  hasten  to  Embrun  to  try 
to  break  the  seal  of  my  cousin's  impassible  countenance,  and 
read  a  few  of  his  thoughts.  Did  I  not  tell  you  that  we  would 
march  no  farther  than  Embrun  ? " 


CHAPTER  m. 

SICK  AND  WEUj. 

The  Duke  of  Savoy  had  taken  up  his  residence  at  the  castle 
of  Embrun,  where,  as  soon  as  the  officers  had  arrived,  his 
highness  called  a  council  of  war.  They  were  assembled  in 
the  council-chamber,  awaiting  the  appearance  of  the  invalid. 

The  doors  leading  to  a  room  beyond,  were  opened  to  give 
passage  to  a  huge  arm-chair  on  rollers,  which  was  wheeled  by 
fOuf  lackeys,  to  the  centre  of  the  hall.  The  duke's  head  re- 
clined on  a  cushion  which  had  been  fastened  for  the  occasion 
to  the  back  of  the  chair :  the  remainder  of  his  person  was 
buried  under  a  purple  velvet  coverlet,  except  his  neck  and 
arms,  which  were  clothed  in  a  black  doublet,  the  whole  costume 
being  eminently  calculated  to  heighten  the  pallor  of  the  djike's 
cheeks,  and  increase  the  whiteness  of  his  hands  as  they  lay 
limp  and  helpless  on  the  velvet  covering.  His  eyes  were  half- 
closed,  and  as  he  made  a  feeble  attempt  to  survey  the  assem- 
blage before  him,  they  appeared  to  open  with  difficulty. 
With  a  faint  motion  of  the  hand,  he  signed  to  the  lackeys  to 
retire,  and  then  made  a  painful  effort  to  raise  his  head. 

Deep  silence  reigned  throughout  the  council-chamber,  but 
the  gaze  of  every  man  there  was  fixed  upon  the  pallid  face  of 
him  in  whose  trembling  hands  lay  the  destinies  of  four  differ- 
ent armies.  His  dim  eyes  wandered  slowly  about  the  room 
until  they  rested  on  the  person  of  Prince  Eugene,  who,  hot 
and  dusty,  presented  an  appearance  that  contrasted  strongly 
with  that  of  his  brother-officers. 

"  Our  dear  kinsman  Eugene  has  arrived,  I  see,"  said  the 
duke,  in  a  faint  voice.  "  We  were  afraid  that  we  would  be 
obliged  to  hold  this  important  council  without  your  presence." 


494  PRINCE  EUGENE   AND  HIS  TIMES. 

"  I  hastened  with  all  si)eed  to  obey  your  highnesses  sum- 
mons," replied  Eugene,  "  and  I  must  avail  myself  of  this  op- 
portunity to  apologize  for  my  dress.  I  have  just  dismounted, 
and  hurried  to  the  council-chamber  that  I  might  myself  an- 
nounce to  your  highness  the  good  news  of  which  I  am  the 
bearer." 

"  Let  us  hear  it,"  murmured  the  duke,  closing  his  eyes,  and 
letting  his  head  di'oop  upon  the  pillow. 

"  Your  highness,  we  were  not  obliged  to  storm  Gab  :  it 
surrendered  without  a  shot." 

The  duke's  eyelids  moved,  and  a  flush  overspread  his  face. 
No  one  remarked  this  save  Eugene,  for  all  other  eyes  in  the 
hall  were  riveted  upon  himself. 

"  This  is  very  good  news,"  said  the  duke,  feebly. 

"  Your  highness  sees,  then,  what  a  panic  is  produced  by  the 
mere  mention  of  your  name.  It  is  a  talisman  that  will  lead 
us  to  Paris  without  opposition  or  loss  of  life.  Like  Caesar, 
you  come,  see,  and  conquer — and  that — not  by  your  presence, 
but  by  your  reputation." 

"  Your  highness  is  too  modest,"  said  Victor  Amadeus,  some- 
what recovering  his  voice.  "  I  cannot  accept  the  laurels  you 
have  so  honorably  won.  Alas  ! "  continued  he,  "  I  fear  that 
I  shall  never  lead  an  army  into  battle  again  ! " 

And,  as  if  exhausted  by  the  thought,  he  fell  back  and  was 
silent.  In  a  few  moments,  he  raised  his  head  and  spoke  :  this 
time  with  open  eyes,  and  with  some  distinctness. 

"  Gentlemen  take  your  seats.     The  council  is  opened." 

The  great  question  of  the  next  movement  of  the  army  was 
now  to  be  agitated.  The  council  were  divided  in  their  senti- 
ments. Some  were  for  rapid  advance,  others  were  of  opinion 
that  great  discretion  was  to  be  exercised,  now  that  they  stood 
on  the  enemy's  territory,  and  that  not  one  step  should  be  made 
without  great  deliberation  as  to  its  expediency. 

At  the  head  of  the  latter  party  stood  General  Caprara. 
"  We  have  no  right  to  trust  to  luck  in  war,"  said  he.  "  We 
must  take  into  consideration  all  the  mischances  that  may  be- 
fall us  in  the  enemy's  country,  and  act  accordingly.  Prince 
Eugene's  advance-guard,  for  example,  had  the  good  luck  to 
find  Gab  abandoned  by  its  inhabitants.     Had  they  remained 


SICK  AND  WELL.  i95 

to  defend  their  city,  we  would  have  lost  our  men  to  no  purpose 
whatever." 

"  My  advance-guard  is  composed  of  young  and  brave  men, 
who,  to  avenge  the  injuries  of  Grermany,  have  devoted  them- 
selves to  death  ;  but  they  are  so  fearless,  and  therefore  so  ter- 
rible, that  I  believe  they  will  live  to  perform  many  a  gallant 
deed." 

"  If  they  are  not  hanged  as  marauders,"  retorted  Caprara  ; 
"  for  my  edicts  against  plunderers  and  incendiaries  remain  in 
force  here  as  weU  as  at  home." 

"  Your  excellency  has,  then,  changed  your  mode  of  warfare 
since  your  soldiery  devastated  the  towns  of  Hungary,"  said 
Eugene. 

'*  Field-Marshal ! "  cried  Caprara,  reddening. 

"  What,  your  excellency  ? "  asked  Eugene,  with  a  provok- 
ing smile. 

"  Grentlemen,"  interposed  the  Duke  of  Savoy,  "distract  not 
our  councils  with  your  personal  difiPerences.  Field-Marshal 
Caprara,  you  are,  then,  of  opinion  that  it  would  be  perilous  for 
us  to  advance  farther  into  the  enemy's  territory  ? " 

"  Yes,  your  highness,"  growled  Caprara,  looking  daggers  at 
Eugene.  ''A  rapid  march  might  give  opportunity  for  the 
display  of  personal  prowess,  which,  while  it  redounded  to  the 
credit  of  the  few,  would  imperil  the  safety  of  the  many." 

"I  heartily  second  the  views  of  General  Caprara,"  said 
Greneral  Legnaney,  the  leader  of  the  Spanish  division.  "  If  we 
march  on,  we  leave  our  base  of  operations  far  behind,  and 
render  unforeseen  calamities  irremediable." 

"  That  is  my  opinion  ;  "  "  And  mine,"  cried  several  voices 
together,  but  among  the  younger  officers  there  was  dissenting 
silence. 

Victor  Amadeus  gave  a  long  sigh,  and,  turning  his  head 
slowly,  addressed  Eugene  : 

"Field-Marshal,  Prince  of  Savoy,  it  is  your  turn  to  speak." 

**I,  your  highness,  am  of  opinion  that  we  push  our  con- 
quest with  vigor.  All  the  talent  and  strength  of  the  French 
army  has  been  sent  to  the  Netherlands,  and  France  is,  so  to 
speak,  at  our  mercy.  We  have  no  obstacles  before  us  in  the 
shape  of  men  in  the  field  or  garrisoned  strongholds.    As  we 


496  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

captured  Barcelonetta,  Guillestre,  and  Gab,  so  will  we  capture 
every  place  that  lies  on  our  march.  There  is  absolutely  noth- 
ing of  the  proportions  of  a  mole-hill  to  prevent  us  from  going- 
as  far  as  Grenoble — nay,  as  far  as  Lyons." 

"  The  Prince  of  Savoy  has  spoken  like  a  sagacious  general," 
said  the  Prince  de  Commercy.  "  Nothing  prevents  us  from 
marching  to  Lyons." 

"  I  sustain  his  views,"  added  the  Duke  of  Schomberg.  "  We 
must  advance.  Let  us  promise  protection  to  the  Waldenses, 
and  so  foment  civil  discord  among  the  enemy.  To  create 
disaffection  in  the  enemy's  country  is  good  policy— and  it  is  a 
policy  that  will  bear  us  on  to  Paris." 

"  We  are  of  the  same  mind,"  said  the  other  officers,  who 
had  kept  silence. 

And  now  ensued  another  pause.  The  casting  vote  on  this 
momenlous  question  was  to  be  given  by  Victor  Amadeus.  He 
had  recovered  his  strength  in  a  wonderful  manner,  for  his 
face  had  lost  its  pallor,  his  eyes  their  dimness,  and  his  whole 
countenance  beamed  with  resolution. 

"  Gentlemen,"  cried  he,  as,  in  his  excitement,  he  rose  from 
his  chair,  "  to  youth  belong  fame  and  conquest ;  to  youth  be- 
longs the  strength  that  casts  away  impediments,  and  overleaps 
all  hindrances  to  success.  Forgive  us,  who,  being  young, 
thirst  for  glory,  and  long  to  quench  that  thirst  in  the  spark- 
ling waters  of  military  success.  Forgive  me,  you  who  are  sa- 
tiated with  ambition  gratified,  if,  rather  than  be  discreet  with 
you,  I  would  be  rash  with  my  young  kinsman.  I  am  of  Prince 
Eugene's  opinion.  Nothing  hinders  our  march  to  Grenoble. 
I  am  impatient — " 

Suddenly  he  paused,  and  grasped  the  arms  of  the  chair.  A 
shudder  pervaded  his  whole  body,  and,  with  a  convulsive  gasp, 
he  fell  back,  apparently  insensible. 

The  assembly  broke  up  in  confusion.  Physicians  were 
summoned,  and,  at  their  bidding,  the  duke  was  slowly  borne 
back  into  his  chamber.  His  head  was  enveloped  in  damp 
cloths,  his  temples  were  rubbed  with  stimulants,  and,  after 
various  restoratives  had  been  applied,  he  slowly  opened  his 
eyes,  and  looked  bewildered  about  him.  Nobody  was  near  ex- 
cept Doctor  Mirazzi.    The  other  physicians  had  retired  to  the 


SICK  AND  WELL.  497 

embrasure  of  a  bay-window,  and  the  lackeys  had  gathered 
ftbout  the  door,  where  they  were  awaiting  further  orders  from 
their  superiors.  All  this  the  duke  had  seen  at  a  glance.  He 
closed  his  eyes  again,  but,  as  he  did  so,  he  made  a  sign  to  Doc- 
tor Mirazzi. 

The  latter  bent  his  head  to  listen,  but  in  such  a  manner  as 
to  convey  the  idea  that  he  was  watching  his  patient's  fluttering 
breath. 

"  Dismiss  them  all,"  whispered  the  sick  man. 

The  doctor  gave  no  ostensible  sign  of  having  heard.  He 
still  kept  his  ear  to  the  patient's  mouth  :  then,  after  a  while, 
he  placed  it  close  to  his  heart.  The  examination  at  an  end,  he 
went  on  tiptoes  toward  the  window  w  here  his  colleagues  were 
standing. 

"  He  sleeps,"  whispered  he.  "  When  he  awakes,  his  malady 
will  probably  declare  itself.  I  will  remain  here  to  watch  him  ; 
it  is  unnecessary  for  you  to  confine  yourselves  with  me  in  this 
close  sick-room.  Will  you  oblige  me  by  returning  this  even- 
ing for  a  consultation  ? " 

'*  Certainly,"  was  the  reply  of  the  others,  who  were  grate- 
ful to  be  relieved  from  duty.  "  Shall  we  appoint  seven 
o'clock  ? " 

"  Yes,"  answered  Mirazzi ;  "  and  we  will  hold  our  consulta- 
tion in  the  duke's  sitting-room.  Our  presence  here  might  be 
prejudicial." 

And,  with  injunctions  for  silence,  the  doctor  accompanied 
his  colleagues  to  the  door,  which  was  noiselessly  opened  by  the 
lackeys  ;  but,  before  they  had  time  to  close  it  again,  Mirazzi 
shut  it  with  his  own  hands,  loosening  simultaneously  a  thick 
velvet  portiere,  through  whose  heavy  folds  no  sound  could 
penetrate  without. 

Victor  Amadeus,  meanwhile,  lay  motionless  in  his  arm- 
chair. 

**Your  highness,"  said  Mirazzi,  *'we  are  now  safe  and 
alone." 

The  duke  arose,  kicked  oflP  his  coverlet,  and  stood  erect. 
**  My  dear  doctor,"  said  he,  "  you  must  prove  to  me  that  I  may 
trust  you." 

"Fop  thirty  years  I  have  served  your  royal  highness's  fam- 


498  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

ily,  and  I  am  ready  to  do  so,  be  it  with  my  life,"  replied  Mi- 
razzi. 

''  I  believe  you,  Mirazzi ;  and  therefore  I,  who  am  insincere 
toward  everybody  else,  am  honest  in  my  intercourse  with  you. 
Now  listen  to  me.  In  the  science  of  medicine  there  are  many 
remedies  for  diseases.  Are  there  any  potions,  known  to  physi- 
cians, that  have  power  to  produce  maladies  ? " 

"  That  is  a  dangerous  inquiry,  your  highness  ;  for  it  re. 
gards  the  most  tragic  secrets  of  the  craft.  There  are  many, 
many  things  known  to  us  that  will  produce  sickness,  followed 
by  death,  immediate  or  remote  ;  but  unfortunately  there  are 
not  as  many  as  you  suppose,  that  will  restore  the  vital  energies 
where  they  are  impaired  by  disease." 

"  But,  doctor,  surely  you  have  some  way  of  simulating  dis- 
ease without  injuring  the  patient.  Cutaneous  maladies,  for 
instance,  must  be  very  easily  induced." 

"  They  can  more  easily  be  induced  than  simulated.  I  can 
raise  a  scarlet  eruption  on  a  man's  skin  ;  but  when  it  appears, 
it  will  bring  with  it  fever  and  thirst." 

''  So  much  the  better,  so  much  the  better  ! "  exclaimed  Vic- 
tor Amadeus,  eagerly.     ''  How  long  will  the  symptoms  last  ? " 

"  If  proper  remedies  are  administered,  they  will  disappear 
in  five  or  six  days,  your  highness." 

"  Good,  good,"  mui'mured  the  duke  to  himself  ;  and  then 
he  began  to  pace  forth  and  back  the  length  of  the  apartment. 
After  a  while  he  came  and  stood  directly  in  front  of  the  doctor, 
who  with  his  sharp  eyes  had  been  watching  him  as  he  walked, 
and  perfectly  apprehended  the  nature  of  the  service  he  was 
expected  to  render  to  his  distinguished  patient. 

"  Doctor,"  said  the  sick  man,  "  I  feel  the  premonition  of 
some  serious  illness.  My  head  swims,  my  limbs  ache,  and 
cold  chills  are  darting  through  my  body.  My  fever  will  be 
high,  and  perchance  I  may  grow  delirious.  Let  me  then  use 
the  rational  interval  left  me,  to  make  such  dispositions  as 
might  be  necessary  in  case  of  my  demise." 

"  Then  let  me  advise  your  highness  to  get  to  bed  as  speedily 
as  possible,"  replied  the  doctor,  solemnly.  "  This  done,  I  will 
call  in  our  consulting  physicians — " 

"  By  no  means  :  I  hate  consultations.    Nobody  shall  come 


THE  DUKE'S  DANGEROUS  ILLNESS.  499 

into  my  room  but  yourself,  and,  when  you  need  the  advice  of 
your  coadjutors,  you  must  assemble  them  in  some  other  part 
of  the  castle." 

"I  thank  your  highness  for  so  signal  a  proof  of  confi- 
dence," said  Mirazzi,  "  but  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  assume  the 
undivided  responsibility  of  your  nursing ;  for  you  may  be- 
come really  sick,  and  you  must  have  all  needful  attention. 
Were  we  in  Turin,  her  highness  your  noble  spouse  would  suf- 
fer no  one  to  attend  you  except  herself  ;  but  here — " 

"  Here  she  shall  not  come  ;  and  to  make  sure  of  this  fact, 
I  will  write  her  a  letter  in  my  own  hand  that  will  allay  any 
anxiety  she  might  feel  on  my  account.  Write  yourself  to  the 
duchess,  and  ask  her  to  send  my  old  nurse — her  that  has  al- 
ways tended  me  in  sickness.  But  I  feel  very  ill,  doctor.  Call 
my  valet  to  undress  me.  When  I  am  comfortably  arranged 
in  bed,  I  will  send  for  my  secretary,  and  afterward  for  my 
staff-officers.  They  must  receive  their  orders  from  me,  befoi'e 
I  lose  my  senses." 

"  To  bed,  to  bed,  your  highness — that  is  the  main  thing  ! " 

"  Yes,  that  is  the  main  thing,"  echoed  the  duke,  falling  into 
his  arm-chair,  and  drawing  up  his  velvet  coverlet.  "  Now, 
doctor,"  added  he,  in  a  very  faint  voice,  "  call  my  valets,  or  I 
shall  swoon  before  they  get  me  to  bed." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  DUEE^S  DANGEROUS  ILLNESS. 

The  news  of  the  duke^s  terrible  illness  spread  through  the 
castle,  over  the  town,  and  reached  the  barracks  of  the  soldiers, 
who,  like  their  officers,  received  the  intelligence  with  blank 
looks  of  disappointment. 

The  staff -officers  hastened  to  the  castle,  and  some  of  them 
made  attempts  to  penetrate  the  sick-chamber.  But  all  in  vain. 
Doctor  Mirazzi^s  orders  were  stringent,  and  the  nerves  of  his 
patient  were  not  to  be  tried  by  the  presence  of  any  man,  were 
that  man  his  own  brother. 


500  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

"  We  can  determine  nothing,  nor  can  we  administer  any 
remedies,"  said  he,  "until  the  malady  declares  itself.  We 
must  wait." 

"  We  must  wait,"  said  the  duke's  physician,  and  the  whole 
army  was  doomed  to  inaction,  while  urgent  and  more  urgent 
grew  the  necessity  for  active  operations. 

Throughout  the  castle  reigned  profound  stillness  :  not  the 
least  sound  was  permitted  to  reach  the  duke's  ears.  The  offi- 
C9i^  that  called  were  kept  at  a  distance  from  his  apartments, 
and  to  all  their  inquiries  there  was  but  one  and  the  same 
reply — the  duke  was  delirious,  and  incapable  of  giving  orders. 

Finally,  after  three  days  of  mortal  suspense,  it  was  an- 
nounced that  his  highness  of  Savoy  had  malignant  scarlet 
fever. 

During  the  four  days  that  followed  this  announcement, 
nobody  was  allowed  to  enter  the  room  except  Doctor  Mirazzi, 
and  the  old  nurse  that  sat  up  with  the  duke  at  night.  But,  on 
the  fifth  day,  two  persons  were  admitted.  Of  these,  one  was 
the  marshal  of  the  duke's  household,  the  other  was  his  cousin 
Eugene. 

They  were  received  with  mysterious  whisperings,  and  were 
warned  not  to  excite  the  patient.  He  had,  in  the  incipiency  of 
his  illness,  insisted  upon  making  his  will,  and  these  two  confi- 
dential friends  had  been  summoned  to  witness  it. 

The  old  nurse  now  joined  them  to  say  that  his  highness  was 
awake,  and  would  see  Prince  Eugene. 

"  My  dear  cousin,''  said  the  duke,  languidly,  "  come  and  re- 
ceive my  last  greeting." 

Eugene  entered  the  alcove,  and  stood  at  the  bedside.  The 
bed  was  curtained  in  purple  velvet,  and  the  hangings  were 
so  arranged  as  to  leave  the  duke's  face  in  obscurity.  Eugene 
perceived,  nevertheless,  that  there  was  no  emaciation  of  fea- 
tures, nor  any  alteration  in  the  expression  of  the  sharp,  rest- 
less eye. 

"My  dear  kinsman,"  continued  the  invalid,  "  it  is  all  over 
with  me.  I  die  without  fame  ;  I  have  fought  my  last  battle 
and  am  vanquished  by  invincible  death." 

"  No,  your  highness,  you  have  not  the  aspect  of  a  dying 
man  ;  and  I  have  strong  hope  that  you  will  live  to  perform 


THE  DUKE'S  DANGEROUS  ILLNESS.  501 

great  deeds  yet.  Young,  wise,  and  brave  as  you  are,  your 
strong  will  may  vanquish  not  only  death,  but  our  common 
enemy — the  King  of  France." 

"  May  your  words  prove  prophetic  I  "  sighed  the  duke,  "  but 
something  tells  me  that  I  must  prepare  for  the  worst.  I  have 
made  my  will,  and—" 

He  paused,  gasped  for  breath,  and  closed  his  eyes.  Then 
motioning  to  Eugene  to  come  nearer,  he  whispered  :  "  1  have 
appointed  you  my  executor  until  the  majority  of  my  heir. 
Promise  me  to  do  all  in  your  power  to  make  my  subjects 
happy." 

"  Your  royal  highness  amazes  me,  and  I  know  not — " 

He  was  interrupted  by  a  loud  groan  which  brought  Doctor 
Mirazzi  to  the  bed  in  a  trice.  The  duke  was  trembling  ;  his 
teeth  were  clinched,  and  his  hands  were  pressed  upon  his  tem 
pies. 

Restoratives  were  used,  and  at  the  proper  time  the  patient 
unclosed  his  eyes.  With  a  great  effort  he  raised  himself  in 
bed,  beckoned  to  the  marshal  of  the  household  to  approach, 
and,  supported  by  Mirazzi,  he  put  his  name  to  the  will. 

"  I  request  my  minister  and  the  marshal  of  my  household 
to  approach  and  witness  the  signing  of  my  will." 

They  came  in,  and,  taking  up  a  document  which  lay  on  a 
table  close  by,  the  duke  raised  himself  in  bed,  and,  supported 
by  the  doctor,  gave  his  signature. 

"  Take  it,"  said  he,  "  to  Turin.  Place  it  in  the  archives,  and 
when  I  am  dead  let  it  be  opened  in  the  presence  of  the  duchess 
and  of  my  well-beloved  kinsman  here  present,  the  Prince  of 
Savoy.  And  now,"  said  he,  "  farewell.  My  strength  is  ex- 
hausted !    The  end  is  nigh  I " 

And  with  these  faintly-articulated  words,  Victor  Amadeus 
fell  back  upon  his  pillow  and  swooned. 

Eugene  returned  to  his  quarters  in  a  state  of  extreme  per- 
plexity. 

"  How  is  the  duke  ? "  cried  De  Commercy,  who  shared  his 
lodgings. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  said  Eugene,  moodily.  "  But  this  I  know  ; 
we  march,  not  to  Grenoble,  but  back  to  Turin." 

"Indeed  I" 


502  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

"  Yes  ;  such  are  the  duke's  latest  orders,  and,  as  he  has 
appointed  no  one  to  represent  him,  the  army  is  still  under  his 
sole  control.  I  told  you,  we  should  get  no  farther  than  Em- 
brun  ! " 

"  But  the  duke  ?  It  is  not  possible  that  he  is  acting  the  sick 
man  all  this  while  ? " 

''  Not  possible  !  Nothing  is  impossible  to  such  a  crafty, 
vulpine  nature  as  his  I " 

''  The  bulletins  say  that  he  is  attacked  with  scarlet  fever,  and 
you  must  have  seen  whether  he  bears  its  marks  on  his  skin  or 
not." 

"He  has  them,  but — this  shrewd  kinsman  of  mine  has 
many  a  secret  unknown  to  such  as  you  and  myself,  Com- 
mercy.  Perhaps  I  do  him  injustice  ;  for,  in  good  sooth,  I  am 
provoked,  and  in  a  humor  to  suspect  everybody.  His  voice 
is  very  weak,  and  indeed,  Commercy,  I  would  feel  very  un- 
comfortable should  he  prove  to  me,  by  dying,  that  I  have  sus- 
pected him  unjustly.  I  must  go  again  ;  I  must  satisfy  my 
doubts." 

The  duke's  condition  was  declared  to  be  so  precarious  that 
sentries  were  stationed  at  every  entrance  of  the  castle,  to  pre- 
vent so  much  as  the  lightest  footstep  from  being  heard  by  the 
noble  patient.  He  was  passing  a  crisis,  and,  during  the  tran- 
sition, not  a  soul  must  be  admitted  within  the  castle  gates. 

Prince  Eugene,  nevertheless,  at  dusk,  betook  himself 
thitherward.  The  sentry  saluted  him,  but  barred  the  en- 
trance. 

"  You  do  not  know  me,"  said  the  prince.  "  I  am  the  duke's 
nearest  kinsman,  and,  unless  you  have  orders  to  exclude  me 
personally,  I  have  the  entrance  to  his  chamber." 

"  We  have  no  orders  with  reference  to  your  highness,"  was 
the  reply. 

"Then  I  must  pass,  and  I  shoulder  the  responsibility." 

The  officer  signed  to  the  sentry  to  stand  aside,  and  Eugene 
entered  the  castle,  crossed  the  tessellated  vestibule,  and  as- 
cended the  wide  marble  staircase.  Here  he  was  stopped  a  sec- 
ond time,  but  he  referred  the  guards  to  the  officer  below,  and 
was  again  allowed  to  pass.  "  I  must  try  to  solve  this  riddle,'* 
thought  he.     "  The  emperor's  interests  hang  upon  the  solution. 


THE  DUKE'S  DANGEROUS  ILLNESS.  503 

Luckily,  I  have  a  pretext  for  my  unexpected  visit  in  these  dis- 
patches." 

He  had  now  traversed  the  long,  lofty  hall ;  had  entered  a 
smaller  one  that  led  to  the  duke's  antechamber,  and  had 
reached  the  opposite  end  of  the  room,  where  stood  two  more 
sentries,  one  before  each  door  that  opened  into  the  duke's 
chamber.  They  had  seen  him  in  the  morning,  and  taking  it 
for  granted  that,  having  penetrated  thus  far,  he  had  authority 
to  go  farther,  they  saluted  him,  and  stepped  aside. 

Eugene  whispered,  "  Is  this  the  door  by  which  I  entered 
this  morning  ?  *' 

The  sentry  bowed. 

''  Whither  does  it  lead  ?" 

"  To  his  royal  highness's  alcove,  my  lord." 

"Right,"  said  Eugene,  laying  his  hand  on  the  lock.  It 
turned,  and  he  was  in  a  small  recess  which  opened  into  the  al- 
cove. The  portiere  was  down,  and  Eugene  stood  irresolute 
before  it.  He  felt  a  nervous  dread  of  he  knew  not  what,  and 
almost  resolved  to  retrace  his  steps.  He  thought  he  could  not 
bear  the  shock  of  the  duke's  treachery,  should  the  illness 
prove — as  he  feared  it  would — a  sham.  He  wondered  what  he 
would  do  ;  and  began  to  think  it  better  not  to  penetrate  into 
the  secrets  of  his  kinsman's  acts,  but — 

No,  no  I  He  had  gone  too  far  to  lose  his  opportunity, 
and,  ashamed  of  his  irresolution,  he  raised  the  portiere.  The 
alcove  was  darkened  by  draperies,  but  as  soon  as  Eugene's  eyes 
had  accustomed  themselves  to  the  obscurity  of  the  place,  he 
drew  near  the  bed,  opened  the  curtains,  and  beheld — nobody  I 
nothing  I 

"  I  was  right,'*  muttered  he,  grinding  his  teeth  ;  "  it  was  a 
comedy  I "  As  he  retreated,  he  stumbled  against  the  little 
table,  and  the  chink  of  the  phials  that  stood  upon  it  was  audi- 
ble. 

*'  Is  that  you,  my  good  Annetta  ? "  said  the  voice  of  the 
duke. 

Eugene  emerged  from  the  alcove,  and  entered  the  sitting- 
room.    There,  in  an  arm-chair,  before  a  table  laden  with 
viands,  fruits,  and  rare  wines,  sat  the  expiring  patient  that  had 
made  bis  will  in  the  morning. 
33 


504:  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

The  duke  was  in  the  act  of  raising  a  glass  of  wine  to  his 
lips.  He  laid  it  hastily  down,  and  his  keen  eyes  darted  fire  at 
the  intruder. 

"  What  means  this  ? "  asked  he,  in  a  voice  that  was  some- 
what uncertain. 

''  If  I  may  be  permitted  to  in  'erpret  what  I  see  before  me," 
replied  Eugene,  "  I  should  say  thai,  your  highness  is  merely 
carrying  out  military  customs.  We  were  at  a  funeral  this 
morning,  to  the  tune  of  a  dead  march — we  return,  this  after- 
noon, to  that  of  a  quick-step." 

"  I  hope  you  are  agreeably  surprised  to  find  that  instead 
of  being  left  behind,  I  have  come  back  with  the  music,"  said 
the  duke,  recovering  his  self-possession.  "  Come  and  join  me 
in  a  glass  of  good  wine.  I  am  as  yet  too  weak  to  do  the  hon- 
ors of  my  house,  but  I  shall  enjoy  my  repast  twofold,  now  that 
I  have  a  guest.  Sit  down.  My  physician,  having  ascertained 
that  what  I  mistook  for  approaching  dissolution  was  a  favor- 
able crisis,  has  prescribed  a  generous  diet  for  me,  and  I  do  as- 
sure you  that,  with  every  mouthful,  I  feel  my  health  return. 
Ah,  Eugene  !  life  is  a  great  boon,  and  I  thank  God,  who  has 
generously  prolonged  mine.  I  hope  that  you,  too,  are  glad 
to  see  me  revive ;  the  army,  I  know,  will  rejoice  to  hear  of 
my  recovery." 

"I  do  not  doubt  their  joy,"  replied  Eugene,  "for  your 
highness's  quick  convalescence  will  spare  them  the  mortifica- 
tion of  a  retreat  to  Piedmont.  I  presume  you  will  now  march 
to  Paris." 

"My  fiery,  impetuous  Eugene,"  replied  Victor  Amadeus, 
with  an  air  of  superiority,  "  you  forget  that  convalescence  is 
not  health.  I  am  here  for  three  weeks  at  least,  and  by  that 
time  the  season  will  be  too  much  advanced  to  make  a  second 
invasion  of  France.  So,  God  willing,  we  shall  return  to  Pied- 
mont, there  to  prosecute  the  war  against  Catinat  and  his  in- 
cendiaries, whom  I  hope  to  drive  ignominiously  from  Italy." 

"  That  is — we  are  to  hold  ourselves  on  the  defensive,"  re- 
plied Eugene,  bitterly.  "Your  highness  is  truly  magnani- 
mous !  All  France  lies  within  your  grasp,  and,  instead  of 
taking  advantage  of  your  good  fortune,  you  lay  it  humbly  at 
the  feet  of  Louis.     We  have  it  in  our  power  to  dictate  terms. 


THE  DUKE'S  DANGEROUS  ILLNESS.  505 

while  this  retreat  exposes  us  to  have  them  dictated  to  our- 
selves." 

"  Field-marshal,"  said  the  duke,  haughtily,  "  you  forget  that 
you  speak  to  your  commander-in-chief." 

"  Yes — to  remember  that  I  speak  to  the  Duke  of  Savoy — " 

"  With  the  head  of  your  house,"  interrupted  the  duke,  "  to 
whom  you  owe  respect." 

"I  accord  it  with  all  my  heart.  Precisely  because  the 
Duke  of  Savoy  is  the  chief  of  our  house,  do  I  implore  him  not 
to  turn  his  back  upon  the  road  which  lies  open  to  fame  and 
renown,  but  to  advance  bravely  to  the  front,  as  becomes  the 
friend  and  ally  of  the  emperor." 

Victor  Amadeus  put  his  hand  up  to  his  head.  "  Excuse  me 
— I  am  not  equal  to  the  holding  of  a  council  of  war,  nor  do  I 
intend  to  have  my  commands  discussed.  We  go  back  to  Pied- 
mont." 

"  Then  I  must  submit,"  said  Eugene,  mournfully.  "  But  I 
crave  permission  to  ask  one  question,  f  my  kinsman." 

"  Say  on,"  answered  the  duke,  wearily. 

"  Does  your  highness  propose  to  desert  the  cause  of  the  em- 
peror, and  renew  your  alliance  with  France  ?  Ah,  you  smile  1 
You  smile  to  think  that  I  should  be  so  unpractised  in  the  art 
of  diplomacy,  as  to  expect  a  direct  answer  to  such  an  inquiry. 
But  I  entreat  you  to  remember,  that  your  defection  concerns 
not  only  your  honor  but  mine  also." 

"  My  dear  Eugene,"  said  the  duke,  mildly,  "  you  are  anxious 
without  any  grounds  for  anxiety.  At  your  solicitation,  and 
from  my  own  convictions  of  duty,  I  became  the  ally  of  the 
emperor ;  I  have  never  reaped  any  advantage  from  the  al- 
liance, and  yet  I  have  remained  perfectly  loyal.  France  has 
made  me  many  offers,  every  one  of  which  I  have  rejected. 
So,  make  yourself  easy  on  the  score  of  my  good  faith,  and  let 
us  change  the  subject.  To  what  chance  do  I  owe  the  pleasant 
surprise  of  this  visit  from  you  ? " 

'*  I  have  the  honor  to  bring  letters  to  your  royal  highness 
from  the  emperor,'*  answered  Eugene,  presenting  his  dis- 
patches. "  I  owe  it  to  my  relationship  with  your  highness, 
that  I  was  allowed  by  your  sentries  to  effect  my  entrance  here." 

"  Of  course,  of  course.    Everybody  knows  in  what  high  es- 


506  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

teem  I  hold  Prince  Eugene.  Verily  I  believe  you  to  be  the 
most  popular  man  in  the  army,  and  your  brown  cassock  to  in- 
spire more  respect  than  my  field-marshal's  uniform.  And 
now  to  study  the  emperor's  letter.  I  say  study ^  for  his  majesty 
will  write  to  me  in  Latin,  and  I  am  no  great  scholar." 

"  While  your  highness  is  occupied,"  said  Eugene,  rising,  "  I 
will  retire  to  the  window."  He  crossed  the  room,  and,  enter- 
ing the  embrasure,  was  completely  lost  to  view  behind  its 
hangings. 

There  was  a  silence  of  some  duration.  The  duke  studied 
his  Latin,  while  Eugene  looked  out  of  the  window.  Suddenly, 
without  any  previous  formality  of  knocking,  the  door  leading 
to  the  antechamber  flew  open,  and  the  voice  of  the  old  nurse 
was  heard. 

"Your  highness,"  said  she,  as  though  communicating  a 
most  agreeable  piece  of  news,  "your  highness,  here  is  the 
French  ambassador.     I — " 

"  Peace,  Annetta,  peace  !  "  cried  Victor  Amadeus.  But  An- 
netta  was  too  much  interested  to  hear,  and  she  went  on  with 
great  volubility  : 

"  Here  he  is  ;  I  passed  him  through.  Everybody  mistook 
him  for  Prince  Eugene — " 

"  Annetta,  hold  your  tongue  ! "  cried  the  duke,  in  a  thun- 
dering voice. 

"  Ay,  your  highness,  ay,"  was  the  reply  of  the  old  woman, 
who,  stepping  back,  opened  the  door  and  called  out : 

"  Count  Tesse,  his  highness  expects  you  ;  come  in." 

And,  to  be  sure,  there  walked  in  a  gentleman  wearing  the 
identical  brown  cassock,  with  its  brass  buttons,  which  was 
known  as  the  costume  of  Prince  Eugene  of  Savoy  ! 

Victor  Amadeus,  in  despair,  sprang  from  his  chair,  and 
made  a  deprecatory  movement  by  which  he  hoped  to  prevail 
upon  the  count  to  retreat.  But  he  only  looked  bewildered  ; 
and  his  bewilderment  increased  to  positive  consternation, 
when  the  curtains  opened,  and  the  veritable  Eugene  stepped 
out  and  surveyed  him  with  undisguised  contempt. 

"  My  dear  Eugene,"  said  the  duke,  in  a  conciliatory  voice, 
*'  you  see  how  pertinaciously  I  am  besieged  by  these  French- 
men.   Here,  for  instance,  is  Count  Tesse.    This  is  his  third 


THE  DUKE'S  DANGEROUS  ILLNESS.  507 

attempt  to  force  an  interview  with  me,  and  he  has  gained  his 
end  by  bribing  my  silly  old  nurse  to  admit  him  under  the 
garb  of  one  to  whom  no  one  here  would  dare  deny  entrance. 
CJount  Tesse  is  an  envoy  of  the  King  of  France,  and  in  your 
presence  I  intend  to  show  him  that  no  offer,  however  brilliant, 
can  induce  me  to  forsake  my  imperial  ally  of  Austria." 

''  I  am  perfectly  convinced  of  your  loyalty,"  said  Eugene, 
with  an  ironical  smile,  "  and,  to  prove  my  trust,  I  beg  x)errais- 
sion  to  withdraw.  I  have  the  honor  to  bid  you  good-even- 
ing." 

So  saying,  Eugene  inclined  his  head  to  the  duke,  and,  pay- 
ing no  attention  whatever  to  his  double,  passed  on. 

With  a  saddened  heart  he  returned  to  his  barracks.  He 
was  met  by  the  Prince  de  Commercy,  holding  aloft  a  huge 
placard.  "  The  bulletin  1  The  bulletin  ! "  cried  he.  "  The 
crisis  is  past,  and  the  duke  is  safe." 

"We,  however,  my  friend,  are  in  great  danger.  We  are 
not  driven  from  French  territory  by  our  enemies,  but  by  our 
pretended  friends.  Ah  f  Victor  Amadeus  has  this  day  in- 
flicted upon  me  a  wound  more  painful  than  that  of  the 
Janizary's  arrow  at  Belgrade.  He  has  withered  my  laurels 
at  the  very  moment  when  my  hand  was  extended  to  pluck 
them." 

"  Then  he  abandons  us,  and  declares  himself  for  France  ? " 
asked  De  Commercy. 

'*  If  that  were  all,  we  could  bear  his  defection,  for  we  would 
have  one  enemy  more — that  is  all.  Instead  of  which,  we  have 
a  double-faced  friend  who  will  have  far  more  power  to  injure 
us  by  his  treachery  in  our  own  camp,  than  by  his  hostility  in 
that  of  the  enemy.  I  will  warn  the  emperor,  as  it  is  my  duty 
to  do  ;  but  he  will  be  dazzled  by  the  fine  promises  of  the  duke, 
and  disregard  my  warning.*  Meanwhile,  as  long  as  Victor 
Amadeus  wears  his  mask,  should  we  even  wrest  a  victory  in 

♦  Every  thing  happened  exactly  as  Eugene  predicted.  The  Duke  of  Sa- 
Toy  retained  command  of  the  imperial  army  for  throe  years,  during  which  he 
played  into  the  hands  of  Louia  XIV.,  condemning  the  allied  forces  to  total  in- 
aetionf  until  France  had  complied  with  all  hia  exactions,  when  he  declared 
himself  for  Loois,  and  accepted  the  rank  of  a  general  in  the  French  army. 
The  Prince  de  Commercy  waa  so  exasperated  that  he  challenged  the  duke,  but 
the  challenge  was  revised. 


508  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

spite  of  his  intrigues,  he  will  manage  to  deprive  us  of  all  its 
He  will  sell  us  to  France,  of  that  you  may  be 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  MARQUIS  STROZZI. 

"Then  you  think  that  Strozzi  will  not  recognize  me?" 
asked  Barbesieur  de  Louvois. 

"I  know  it,"  replied  Carlotta.  "His  memory  is  a  blank 
from  which  every  image,  except  that  of  his  wife,  has  been 
effaced." 

"  Does  he  love  her  still  ? " 

"  Unhappily  he  does,"  sighed  Carlotta. 

"My  good  girl,"  said  Barbesieur,  trying  to  look  amiable, 
"  pray  don't  be  so  concise.  Tell  me  the  condition  of  the  mar- 
quis, at  once  :  I  did  not  come  to  this  old  owFs  roost  for  pas- 
time. I  came  to  see  what  could  be  done  to  restore  its  unhap- 
py lord  to  reason.  That  you  are  observing,  I  remember  ;  you 
proved  it  by  the  good  care  you  took  of  my  sister  Laura." 

"  My  lord,  you  jest ;  but  the  flight  of  the  marchioness  has 
disgraced  me.  She  outwitted  me,  and  I  shall  hate  her  to  the 
end  of  my  days." 

"  Verily  I  believe  you,"  laughed  Barbesieur,  as  he  saw  the 
glitter  of  her  pale-green  eyes.  "  I  see  in  your  face  that  you 
know  how  to  hate.  But  you  must  excuse  me  if  I  am  amused 
when  I  think  I  see  you  watching  the  doors  like  a  she-Cerberus, 
while  that  sly  creature  was  flying  out  of  the  chimney.  But 
never  mind  her  :  I  want  to  talk  with  you  of  her  husband.  I 
know  that  he  was  confined  in  a  mad-house  ;  but,  having  oc- 
casion to  see  if  he  was  sane  enough  to  do  me  a  service,  I  found 
out  that  he  had  been  discharged  as  cured,  and  had  retired  with- 
in himseK.  Now,  good  Carlotta,  tell  me  his  veritable  condi- 
tion." 

"  He  never  has  been  sane  since  the  flight  of  the  marchion- 
ess. The  morning  after,  when,  in  spite  of  our  knocking  and 
calling,  we  received  no  answer,  I  set  Julia  to  watch  the  doors 


THE  MARQUIS  STROZZI.  509 

(for  I  thought  she  was  merely  trying  to  frighten  us,  and  would 
make  her  escape  "while  we  were  away),  and  went  to  consult 
the  marquis  as  to  what  we  must  do.  When  we  returned,  Julia 
assured  us  that  she  had  not  heard  a  breath  since  I  had  been 
away." 

"  And  I  suppose  that  the  marquis  forced  the  doors  ? " 
"  Oh,  no,  my  lord,"  replied  Carlotta,  bitterly.  "  He  was  so 
fearful  of  displeasing  her  that  he  resisted  all  my  importunities 
to  break  them  open.  He  knocked  and  begged  so  humbly  for 
admission,  that  I  fairly  cried  with  rage.  This  lasted  for  hours. 
Finally  he  fell  on  his  knees  and  cried  like  a  child,  promising, 
if  she  would  open  the  door,  to  give  her  her  freedom,  and  never 
imprison  her  again.  Then  he  swore  by  the  memory  of  his 
father  that  he  would  go  to  Rome  and  get  a  divorce  for  her. 
It  was  shameful  ;  and  at  last  I  cried  out  for  passion,  and  told 
him  to  get  up  and  behave  like  a  man.  But  all  in  vain.  Sud- 
denly Julia  came  running  to  say  that,  while  the  marquis  had 
been  lying  before  the  parlor  door,  she  had  forced  the  one  that 
led  to  the  sitting-room,  and  that  the  marchioness  had  escaped." 
''What  did  Strozzi  do  when  he  heard  this?  Whine 
louder?" 

"  Oh,  no  1    He  sprang  up,  rushed  into  the  rooms,  and  be- 
gan to  search  for  her." 

"  I  suppose  you  helped,  like  good  dogs  after  their  game  ? " 
"  Of  course,  for  it  seemed  impossible  that  she  should  have 
gotten  out  by  any  but  supernatural  means.  But  at  last  we 
were  obliged  to  accept  the  fact  of  her  flight,  wonderful  as  it 
was,  and  we  sat  down.  Not  so  the  marquis.  He  appeared  to 
think  that  she  had  been  transformed  into  a  mouse,  for  he  ran 
about,  opening  boxes,  looking  under  tables,  occasionally  stop- 
ping to  roar  like  a  wild  beast,  or  falling  on  his  knees  and  weep- 
ing. Then  he  would  begin  his  hunt  again,  and  this  lasted  the 
whole  day.  We  asked  him  to  take  some  rest,  and  let  his  serv- 
ants be  sent  out  to  search  the  woods,  but  he  gave  us  no  an- 
swer, still  going  round  and  round  until  dusk,  when  he  called 
for  lights.  He  kept  up  his  search  the  whole  night ;  and  when 
the  sun  rose,  and  we  awoke,  we  found  him  running  to  and  fro, 
from  one  room  to  the  other.  In  vain  we  pressed  him  to  eat 
or  to  rest,  he  spoke  not  a  word  to  any  of  us.    Finally,  one  of 


510  PRINCE   EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

the  men  laid  hands  on  him  to  force  him  to  sit  down,  when  he 
drew  hack  and  struck  him  with  such  force  that  the  hlood 
spirted  from  his  face,  as  he  fell  full  length  on  the  floor.  The 
marquis  went  on  in  this  manner  for  a  week,  each  day  grow- 
ing paler  and  feebler,  until  at  last  he  staggered  like  a  drunken 
man." 

"  Unhappy  lover  ! "  exclaimed  Barbesieur,  with  a  shrug. 

"  Finally,  the  physician  we  had  sent  for  came  from  Turin. 
By  this  time  the  marquis  had  fallen  from  exhaustion,  and  lay 
asleep.  He  was  lifted  to  bed,  and  four  men  were  set  to  watch 
him  ;  for  the  doctor  expected  him  to  be  violent  when  he  waked. 
And  so  he  was.  He  tried  to  leap  out  of  bed,  and  was  finally 
bound  hand  and  foot.  After  a  while,  came  his  cousin  from 
Venice,  who  took  charge  of  him  and  of  his  property." 

"  Yes,  to  my  cost,"  growled  Barbesieur,  "  for  he  swindled 
me  out  of  my  pension." 

"  The  Marquis  Balbi-Strozzi  inherits  the  estate,  if  the  Mar- 
quis Ottario  dies  without  heirs,"  said  Carlotta. 

"  The  Marquis  Ottario  will  not  be  such  an  ass  as  to  die  with- 
out heirs,"  cried  Barbesieur,  impatiently.  "  He  shall  be  rec- 
onciled to  his  wife,  or  he  shall  marry  some  other  woman,  and 
beget  children.  The  devil !  He  is  a  young  man,  and  nobody 
dies  of  love,  nowadays." 

"  He  looks  like  a  man  of  eighty,"  said  Carlotta. 

"  He  is  much  changed,  then  ? " 

*' You  would  not  Jinow  him,  my  lord." 

"Perhaps  not,  but  he  will  recover  his  youth  with  his 
health.  What  does  he  do  all  day,  Carlotta  ?  What  does  he 
say?" 

"  My  lord,  he  says  nothing,  except  an  occasional  word  to 
his  valet.  As  for  what  he  does,  he  is  forever  shut  up  in  his 
laboratory." 

"  Laboratory  ?    What  sort  of  a  laboratory  ? " 

"  A  room  which,  immediately  after  his  return,  he  had  fitted 
up  like  a  great  kitchen.  When  the  alterations  had  been  made, 
he  went  to  Turin,  and  came  home  with  the  entire  contents  of 
an  apothecary  shop,  with  which  the  shelves  of  his  laboratory 
are  filled.  I  helped  him  to  place  his  jars  and  phials,  but  much 
against  my  will,  for  he  calls  me  ugly  names." 


THE  MARQUIS  STROZZI.  511 

Barbesieur  laughed.     "  Do  tell  me  what  he  calls  you  ? " 
"  My  lord,  you  may  laugh,  but  you  would  not  like  to  an- 
swer to  the  name  of  '  Basilisk.' " 

"  To  be  sure,  '  Floweret '  would  be  much  more  appropriate 
to  your  style  of  beauty,  Carlotta  ;  but  let  that  pass,  and  go  on 
with  your  narrative.  What  is  Strozzi  about,  in  this  labora- 
tory?" 

"  How  do  I  know,  my  lord  ?  He  cooks  and  evaporates  his 
messes ;  then  runs  to  his  table  and  reads  in  some  mouldy 
old  parchments  ;  then  hurries  back  to  the  chimney  and  stirs 
his  pipkins — then  back  to  the  table — and  so  on,  all  day 
long." 

"  But,  my  angelic  Carlotta,  if  nobody  is  allowed  to  enter  the 
laboratory,  how  came  you  to  be  so  admirably  posted  as  to 
Strozzi's  movements  ? " 

Carlotta  looked  perplexed.  "  My  lord,  there  is  a  little  hole 
in  the  door  that  leads  out  to  the  corridor,  and  sonietimes  I  have 
thought  it  but  right  to  watch  our  dear  lord,  that  he  might  do 
himself  no  harm." 

''  Which  means  that  you  bored  a  hole  in  the  door  by  way 
of  observatory.  Nay — do  not  deny  it ;  I  respect  your  thirst 
for  knowledge.    Does  he  never  leave  his  laboratory  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes,  my  lord.  He  writes  a  great  deal  in  his  cabinet. 
All  his  orders  are  transmitted  in  that  way.  Last  week  the 
steward  made  a  mistake  in  his  accounts — " 

"  To  his  own  prejudice  ? " 

"  My  lord,"  said  Carlotta,  with  a  hoarse  laugh,  **  no,  to  that 
of  the  marquis.  When  he  discovered  it,  he  wrote  underneath, 
*  Two  thousand  florins  unaccounted  for.  If  this  occurs  a  sec- 
ond time,  you  are  discharged.' " 

**Gkx)d,  good  I"  cried  Barbesieur.  "Then  he  is  returning 
to  his  senses.     He  receives  no  company  ? "  added  he. 

"  How  should  he  ?  He  knows  nobody,  and  has  forgotten 
every  thing  connected  with  his  past  life." 

'*  But  you  told  me  that  he  still  remembered  the  marchion- 
e«t" 

"  As  for  her,  my  lord,  he  loves  her  as  madly  as  ever.  He 
stands  before  her  portrait,  weeping  by  the  hour,  and  the  table 
is  always  set  for  two  persons.    Every  morning  he  goes  into 


512  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

the  garden  and  makes  a  bouquet,  which  he  lays  upon  her  plate 
before  he  takes  his  seat." 

"  Poor  Strozzi !  Sane  or  mad,  he  will  always  be  a  dreamer  ! " 
said  Barbesieur.     "  Where  is  he  now  ? " 

"  In  the  garden,  my  lord  ;  for  it  is  almost  the  hour  for  din- 
ner, and  he  is  in  the  conservatory  gathering  flowers  for  the 
empty  plate." 

"  Show  me  the  way.  I  am  curious  to  know  whether  he  has 
forgotten  his  brother-in-law  and  benefactor." 


CHAPTEE  VI. 

INSANITY  AND   REVENGE. 

Barbesieur  followed  Carlotta  to  the  garden.  They  were 
walking  silently  down  the  great  avenue  that  led  to  the  con- 
servatory, when,  at  some  distance,  they  beheld  advancing  to- 
ward them  the  figure  of  a  man.  His  step  was  feeble  and  slow  ; 
his  black  garments  hung  loosely  about  his  shrunken  limbs  ; 
his  face  was  bloodless,  like  that  of  a  corpse,  his  cheeks  hollow, 
his  large  eyes  so  sunken  that  their  light  seemed  to  come  from 
the  depths  of  a  cavern.  His  sparse  hair,  lightly  blown  about 
by  the  wind,  was  white  as  snow  ;  his  long,  thin  beard  was  of 
the  same  hue. 

"Who  is  that  strange-looking  old  man?"  asked  Barbe- 
sieur. 

"  That,  my  lord,  is  the  Marquis  Strozzi ! " 

"  Impossible  ! "  cried  Barbesieur,  with  a  start. 

"  I  told  you,  my  lord,  that  he  looked  like  a  decrepit  old 
man,"  said  Carlotta. 

"  And  truly  he  is  not  a  very  seductive-looking  personage," 
answered  Barbesieur.  "  But  we  must  try  if,  in  this  extin- 
guished crater,  there  be  not  a  spark  by  which  its  fire  may  be 
rekindled.  Leave  me,  Carlotta.  I  must  have  no  third  person 
here  to  divert  Strozzi's  attention  from  myself. " 

"  Shall  I  not  announce  you,  my  lord  ? "  asked  Carlotta,  who 
was  dying  of  curiosity  to  see  the  meeting. 


mSANITY  AND  REVEXGE.  613 

"  Not  at  all,  my  angel.  Go  back  to  the  castle — not  by  that 
winding  path,  if  you  please,  but  by  this  wide  avenue.  And— 
be  alert  in  your  movements,  for  I  shall  watch  you  until  yon- 
der door  closes  upon  your  youthful  charms,  and  hides  them 
from  my  sight." 

Carlotta  looked  venomous,  but  dared  not  tarry,  and  Bar- 
besieur  followed  her  with  his  eyes  until  he  heard  the  clang  of 
the  ponderous  castle-door  behind  her.  He  then  confronted 
the  living  spectre  that,  by  this  time,  was  within  a  few  feet  of 
him. 

"  Grod's  greeting  to  you,  brother-in-law,"  cried  he,  in  a  loud, 
emphatic  voice,  while  he  grasped  Strozzi's  poor,  wan  hands, 
and  held  them  within  his  own. 

The  marquis  raised  his  dark,  blank  eyes,  then  let  them  fall 
again  upon  the  bouquet  which  Barbesieur  had  so  unceremoni- 
ously crushed. 

"Sir,"  said  he,  gently,  "do  release  my  hand,  for  see— you 
are  bruising  my  flowers." 

"  Sure  enough,  he  does  not  recognize  me,"  said  Barbesieur, 
relaxing  his  hold ;  while  Strozzi,  unmindful  of  his  presence, 
caressed  his  flowers,  and  smoothed  their  crumpled  leaves. 

"  She  loves  flowers,"  murmured  the  poor  maniac. 

Barbesieur  took  up  the  words.  "  Yes,"  said  he,  "  yes  ;  my 
sister  Laura  loves  flowers.     Pity  she  is  not  here  to  see  them." 

The  marquis  shivered.  "Who  speaks  of  my  Laura?" 
said  he. 

"  I, — I,  her  brother,"  bawled  Barbesieur,  looking  straight 
into  Strozzi's  eyes.  "  I  spoke  of  her,  and,  by  G— d,  I  have  a 
right  to  call  her,  for  I  am  her  brother  Barbesieur  ! " 

Strozzi  extended  his  hand,  and  an  imbecile  smile  flitted 
over  his  ghastly  face.  "  Ah  1  then,  you  love  her  ? "  asked  he, 
mournfully. 

"  Of  course  I  love  her,"  was  the  lying  response.  "  You  re- 
member—do you  not — that  you  were  indebted  to  me  for  your 
marriage  with  Laura  Bonaletta  ? " 

"  Bonaletta  ! "  screamed  Strozzi.  "  There  is  no  Laura  Bona- 
letta ;  her  name  is  Laura  Strozzi,  the  Marchioness  Strozzi,  my 
wife  I    Remember  that,  sir — remember  it." 

"  To  be  sure,  to  be  sure,"  murmured  Barbesieur  ;  "  he  has 


514  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

forgotten  everybody  but  that  tiresome  Laura.  Let  us  see  if  we 
cannot  stir  up  bis  memory  to  anotber  tune." 

Strozzi  meanwbile  bad  passed  on,  and,  witb  bis  eyes  fixed 
on  his  flowers,  was  slowly  making  bis  way  to  tbe  castle.  Bar- 
besieur  followed,  tbougb  tbe  poor  lunatic  seemed  to  bave  no 
consciousness  of  bis  presence.  Tbey  walked  on  together  in 
silence,  until  tbey  bad  reached  the  castle,  and  entered  the  din- 
ing-room, where  dinner  was  served. 

Strozzi  went  up  to  the  table,  laid  his  offering  on  the  plate, 
and  bowed : 

"  Will  you  allow  me  to  take  my  seat  ? "  said  be,  humbly, 
while  he  took  a  chair  opposite,  which  old  Martino  had  drawn 
back  for  his  accommodation. 

"  Do  you  see,  my  lord  ? "  said  Martino  to  Barbesieur  ;  "  he 
imagines  the  marchioness  present  at  all  his  meals." 

"  He  must  be  undeceived,"  said  Barbesieur,  roughly. 

"  I  beseech  you,  signor,"  said  the  old  man,  "  leave  him  in 
error  ;  for,  if  you  undeceive  him,  you  will  rob  him  of  the  only 
glimpse  of  happiness  that  remains  to  him." 

"  I  shall  make  the  attempt,  nevertheless,"  replied  Barbe- 
sieur, in  a  tone  that  admitted  of  no  further  remonstrance, 
while  he  advanced  to  the  table,  and  seated  himself  in  the 
empty  chair. 

The  marquis  started,  and  bis  brow  darkened.  "  Sir,"  said 
he,  "  that  is  the  head  of  the  table — tbe  place  of  the  Marchioness 
Strozzi." 

"  I  know  it,"  was  the  reply,  "  and,  as  soon  as  she  makes  her 
appearance,  I  will  give  it  up. — Martino,  serve  tbe  soup  ;  I  am 
hungry."  So  saying,  he  tossed  the  bouquet  to  tbe  valet,  and 
poured  out  some  wine. 

At  this,  Strozzi  sprang  up,  and,  staring  at  Barbesieur,  with 
eyes  that  glowed  like  the  orbs  of  a  wild  animal — "  Sir,"  ex- 
claimed he,  "  you  are  an  insolent  intruder  ! " 

"  I  know  it,"  cried  Barbesieur — "  and  what  next  ? " 

The  marquis  gazed  in  bewilderment  at  the  threatening  face 
of  his  self-invited  guest,  and  then,  slowly  turning  around, 
prepared  to  leave  the  room.  Barbesieur  rose  and  followed 
him. 

At  the  door  of  bis  cabinet  be  stopped  and  cried  out : 


INSANITY  AND  REVENGE.  515 

"  Let  the  marshal  of  the  household  see  to  it  that  no  one  in- 
trudes upon  my  privacy  ! " 

And,  with  a  gesture  of  offended  dignity,  he  entered  the 
room.  Barbesieur,  however,  was  immediately  behind  him^ 
and  they  had  no  sooner  crossed  the  threshold  than  he  locked 
the  door,  and  put  the  key  in  his  pocket. 

"  Now,  I  have  him,"  thought  he,  "  and  I  shall  begin  my  ex- 
periments." 

*'Sir,"  said  Strozzi,  alarmed,  "  why  do  you  persecute  me  ?" 

'*  I  want  you  to  say  if  you  know  me,"  answered  Barbesieur, 
dominating  the  madman  with  the  calm,  powerful  glance  of 
reason. 

Strozzi  shook  his  head,  murmuring,  "  No,  sir,  no.  I  do  not 
know  you." 

"  But  I  know  you^  Strozzi,  my  good  fellow.  You  are  my 
beloved  brother-in-law,  the  husband  of  my  sister  Laura,  who 
forsook  you  so  shamefully,  because  she  did  not  love  you." 

The  shaft  had  pierced.  A  gleam  of  returning  reason  shot 
athwart  Strozzi's  face,  and  a  faint  color  rose  to  his  cheek. 

"  Not  love  me  I "  echoed  he,  tearfully  ;  "  whom,  then,  does 
she  love  ? " 

Barbesieur  laid  the  weight  of  his  great  hands  upon  Strozzi's 
shoulders,  and  looked  steadfastly  in  his  eyes.  Raising  his 
voice  to  the  utmost,  he  shouted  :  "  I  will  tell  you  whom  she 
loves,  and  mark  me  well,  Strozzi.  She  loves  Prince  Eugene 
of  Savoy  ! " 

"  Eugene  of  Savoy  I "  shrieked  the  wretched  creature. 
"  Eugene  of  Savoy  I  Ah,  yes,  I  remember.  I  hate  him,  and 
he  must  die  I " 

"  Ay,  that's  it ! "  cried  Barbesieur,  cheerily,  "  that's  it.  He 
must  die  ;  and  when  he  is  dead,  Laura  will  love  the  Marquis 
de  Strozzi." 

**  You  think  so  ? "  asked  Strozzi,  laying  his  tremulous  hand 
upon  Barbesieur  s,  great  fifm  arm. 

"  I  know  it.  The  very  moment  Prince  Eugene  dies,  Laura's 
heart  is  yours." 

"  He  must  die  I  He  must  die  1 "  murmured  Strozzi,  clasp- 
ing his  attenuated  fingers,  and  looking  imploringly  into  Bar- 
beaieur^s  face. 


516  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

"  Ay,  that  must  he,  and  you  are  the  man  that  shall  take  his 
life.     Your  honor  demands  it  of  you." 

"Yes,  my  honor,"  repeated  Strozzi,  "my  honor.  I  thank 
you,  sir,  for  your  goodness  to  me.  You  are  the  first  person 
that  ever  advised  me  to  avenge  myself  on  Eugene  of  Savoy. 
You  are  the  only  person  that  ever  advised  me  to  take  his  life, 
and  I  believe  you,  and  trust  you.  Yes,  sir,  take  my  word  for 
it,  Eugene  of  Savoy  shall  die  !  " 

"  How  will  you  go  about  it  ? "  asked  Barbesieur. 

An  expression  of  cunning  was  seen  to  steal  over  the  face  of 
the  madman,  as  he  replied,  "  That  is  my  secret,  sir." 

"  I  will  tell  you  how  to  make  an  end  of  him,"  cried  Barbe- 
sieur, patting  him  on  the  shoulder.     "  Poison  him  ! " 

Strozzi  gazed  with  astonishment  at  his  brother-in-law,  and 
forthwith  conceived  a  profound  respect  for  his  cleverness. 
"  Did  you  know  that  ? "  said  he,  with  a  silly  smile.  "  Did  you 
know  that  I  meant  to  poison  him  ? " 

"To  be  sure  I  did,  and  I  came  here  to  work  with  you 
in  your  laboratory,  until  we  concoct  the  right  dose  for 
him." 

"  Did  you  know  that  I  had  a  laboratory  ? "  asked  Strozzi,  in 
a  whisper.  "  And  did  you  know  that  I  was  trying  to  find  a 
brave,  beautiful  poison  that  would  kill  him  like  a  pistol-shot, 
or  a  good  stab  under  the  ribs  ? " 

"  I  knew  it  all,  and  I  came  to  help  you." 

"  I  thank  you,  sir,  I  thank  you  !  Give  me  your  hand.  I 
take  you  for  my  friend,  and  trust  you.  Come  with  me  to  my 
laboratory." 

So  saying,  he  passed  his  arm  within  that  of  his  brother-in- 
law,  and  led  him  to  the  opposite  end  of  the  room.  Barbesieur 
laid  his  hand  on  the  bolt,  but  the  door  was  locked. 

"  You  see,"  said  Strozzi,  waxing  confidential,  "  I  keep  this 
door  always  locked,  for  let  me  tell  you,  my  dear  friend,  that 
Eugene  of  Savoy  has  surrounded  my  castle  with  a  regiment  of 
dragoons,  who  are  his  spies.  That  is  the  reason  why  I  never 
talk  to  anybody — I  am  so  afraid  that  my  people  will  betray 
me  to  Prince  Eugene's  dragoons.  Luckily,  they  have  never 
found  out  the  secret  of  my  laboratory,  for  I  always  cany  the 
key  in  my  pocket.    Here  it  is."    He  took  out  his  key  and  un- 


INSANITY  AND  REVENGE.  517 

locked  the  door,  but  before  opening  it  he  addressed  Barbesieup 
in  a  solemn  whisper  : 

"  My  dear  friend,  before  you  enter  my  sanctuary,  swear  to 
me,  by  the  memory  of  my  dear  departed  wife,  that  you  will 
not  betray  its  secrets  to  Prince  Eugene's  dragoons." 

"I  swear,  my  dear  Strozzi,  by  sun,  moon,  and  stars — " 

Strozzi  shook  his  head,  and  folded  his  hands  reverently. 
"No,  no  ;  swear  by  the  memory  of  my  sainted  Laura." 

Barbesieur  swore,  and  the  door  was  opened. 

"  Come  in,"  said  Strozzi. 

"  And  may  all  the  gods  of  vengeance  bless  my  entrance 
hither  ! "  muttered  Barbesieur,  between  his  teeth. 

The  room  was  as  Carlotta  had  described  it.  Its  long 
shelves  were  filled  with  jars  and  phials,  and  over  the  chimney 
was  a  wide  mantel,  with  porcelain  pipkins,  retorts,  glass  tubes, 
and  flasks. 

"  Ah,"  cried  Barbesieur,  taking  a  phial  from  its  shelf,  "  this 
is  a  precious  beverage,  that  lulls  one  to  sleep  or  to  death,  as 
one's  friends  may  prescribe." 

"  Yes— it  is  laudanum,"  replied  Strozzi.  "A  painless  dag- 
ger, an  invisible  sword  of  justice  in  the  hands  of  the  elect.  It 
was  the  basis  of  all  the  wonderful  preparations  of  Katherina 
de  Medicis.  There  was  a  woman  I  Why  did  I  not  know  her, 
and  learn  of  her  the  precious  secrets  of  her  laboratorium  ? 
From  my  youth,  I  have  studied  chemistry,  and  I  had  a  beauti- 
ful room  in  Venice,  where  I  used  to  work  with  the  famous 
Chiari.    But  we  never  discovered  Katherina's  secret." 

"  What  secret,  dear  Strozzi  ? "  inquired  Barbesieur. 

"  The  secret  of  killing  people  by  fumes,  which  left  no  trace 
whatever  of  their  action  on  the  body,"  answered  Strozzi,  with 
an  awakening  gleam  of  wickedness  in  his  eyes. 

"And  you  believe  that  there  are  such  delicate,  ethereal 
little  ministers  of  vengeance  ? " 

"  Do  I  believe  it  ? — Why,  to  their  agency,  Katherina  owed 
her  elevation  to  the  throne  of  France.  Nobody  knows  this 
better  than  I,  for  my  ancestor  Filippo  Strozzi  was  her  friend 
and  relative,  and  their  correspondence  now  is  in  the  archives  of 
the  family,  at  Venice.  I  am  indebted  to  the  letters  of  Elathe- 
rina  for  much  of  my  knowledge  of  chemistry." 


518  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

"  And  so  you  found  out  from  her  correspondence  how  she 
managed  to  become  Queen  of  France?"  asked  Barbesieur, 
anxious  to  indulge  Strozzi's  sudden  fit  of  garrulity. 

"  I  did,"  was  his  complacent  reply,  while  he  nodded  his 
head  repeatedly,  and  stroked  his  long,  white  beard.  "  When 
Katherina  came  to  France,  she  came  as  the  bride  of  the  Duke 
of  Orleans,  the  second  son  of  Francis  I.  There  seemed  no 
chance  for  her  to  be  a  queen,  for  the  dauphin  was  a  lusty 
young  fellow  who  was  already  betrothed  to  the  beautiful  In- 
fanta of  Spain.  But  Katherina  had  no  mind  to  let  the  infanta 
reign  in  France,  so  she  invited  the  dauphin  to  her  castle  of 
Gien,  and  took  him  to  her  conservatory.  There  was  a  beauti- 
ful rare  flower  there,  which  had  a  strong  perfume.  Katherina 
directed  his  attention  to  it,  but  advised  him  not  to  hang  over 
it  too  long,  as  it  never  failed  to  give  her  the  headache,  if  she 
approached  it  too  closely.  The  dauphin  laughed,  and  was  not 
to  be  frightened  away  from  a  flower,  because  of  the  headache. 
Moreover,  the  odor  was  delightful,  and  he  would  not  be 
warned.  That  day  he  had  a  headache  ;  the  next,  he  was  pale 
and  feeble,  and  in  less  than  a  week,  he  died,  and  nobody  the 
wiser,  except  Katherina." 

"  And  he  died,  really  from  the  odor  of  a  flower  ? " 

"  Yes,  from  a  flower  which  Katherina  had  perfumed  for  his 
use,  my  dear  friend.  And  do  you  know  how  she  made  away 
with  Joanna  of  Navarre,  who  had  guessed  the  secret  of  the 
dauphin's  death,  and  had  already  hinted  her  suspicions  to  her 
brother  Francis  ? " 

"  No,  I  never  heard  of  it.  Upon  my  word,  Strozzi,  you  in- 
terest me  exceedingly." 

"  Do  I  ?  Well,  I  will  tell  you  more,  then.  Katherina  made 
a  present  to  Joanna  of  a  pair  of  embroidered  gloves.  The  day 
after  she  wore  them  she  was  dead.  What  do  you  think  of 
that  ? — And  did  you  ever  hear  how  the  Prince  of  Forcia  died 
— ^he  who  advised  the  dauphin  to  divorce  his  wife  because  she 
had  been  married  for  eight  years  and  had  borne  him  no  chil- 
dren ? "  continued  Strozzi,  with  increasing  volubility. 

"I  confess  my  ignorance,  Strozzi ;  do  enlighten  me." 

"  I  will,  sir.  The  prince  received  a  present  from  Katherina 
(she  was  a  great  hand  to  make  presents).    This  time  it  was  a 


iNSANITY  AND  REVENGE.  519 

flask  of  fine  Italian  oil  for  his  night-lamp,  which  oil,  in  burn- 
ing, emitted  a  delicate  perfume.  By  the  time  the  flask  was 
emptied,  the  prince  had  gone  the  way  of  all  flesh." 

"  And  all  this  because  of  Queen  Katherina's  science  ? " 

"  And  all  this  because  of  Queen  Katherina's  science  1 " 
echoed  Strozzi. 

"  But  you  have  not  yet  hit  upon  her  secret  yourself  ? " 

"  Not  yet ;  but  I  think  I  am  on  the  track,  and  hope  to  dis- 
cover it  in  time  to  try  it  on  Prince  Eugene." 

Barbesieur  rose  from  his  seat,  and,  coming  toward  Strozzi, 
struck  him  on  the  shoulder.  "  Now,  Strozzi,  look  at  me  atten- 
tively, and  try  to  understand  what  I  am  about  to  say  to  you. 
I  will  help  you  to  seek  this  poison.    Do  you  hear  ? " 

"  Yes,"  said  Strozzi,  with  a  cunning  leer.  "  Yes,  I  hear. 
You  will  help  me  to  seek  the  poison  for  Prince  Eugene." 

"  Grood,"  replied  Barbesieur.  "  Now,  look  at  me  full  in  the 
eyes.  Look,  I  tell  you  ! "  repeated  he,  as  Strozzi's  face  began 
to  relapse  into  imbecility.     "  I  have  found  the  poison." 

Strozzi  uttered  a  triumphant  yell,  but  Barbesieur  silenced 
him.  "  Pay  attention  while  I  tell  you  how  I  became  possessed 
of  it.  I  was  by,  when  La  Voisin  was  put  to  the  torture  in 
La  Chambre  ardente,  and  I  heard  her  confession.  I  was  de- 
puted to  search  for  her  papers  ;  and  before  I  delivered  them 
up  you  may  be  sure  that  I  examined  them,  to  see  what  I  could 
make  out  of  them  for  my  own  profit.  I  found  various  receipts 
for  love-potions,  as  well  as  for  the  renowned  poudre  de  succes- 
sion of  the  Oountess  Soissons ;  but  of  that  anon.  Do  you 
mark  me,  Stnjzzi  t 

"  Oh,  sir,"  cried  Strozzi,  trembling  in  every  limb,  "  speak — 
speak  quickly,  or  I  shall  die  of  suspense  I " 

Barbesieur  then,  emphasizing  each  word,  replied  :  "  I  found 
a  parchment  on  which  were  inscribed  these  words  :  '  Receipt 
for  procuring  death  by  inhalation.  Queen  Katherina  de 
Medicis.'" 

"  That  is  it,  that  is  it,"  howled  Strozzi,  and  in  his  ecstasy  he 
flung  his  arms  around  Barbesieur's  great  body.  But  suddenly 
his  countenance  became  expressive  of  distrust,  and  his  eye  had 
a  deadly  glitter,  like  that  of  a  snake. 

"  But  will  you  give  it  to  me  ?  Where  is  it  ?  I  warn  you, 
84 


520  PEINCE    EUGENE   AND   HIS  TIMES. 

do  not  trifle  with  me,  for  you  never  shall  leave  this  labora* 
tory  until  I  have  it ! "  Meanwhile  he  made  a  furtive  move- 
ment toward  his  breast. 

But  Barbesieur  had  seen  the  gesture,  and  with  his  powerful 
grasp  he  clutched  Strozzi's  hand,  and  withdrew  it  armed  with 
a  poniard  of  fine,  glistening  steel.  Flinging  it  with  such  force 
against  the  wall  that  it  buried  itself  in  the  masonry,  Barbesieur 
gazed  for  a  moment  at  the  poor  fool  whose  teeth  were  chatter- 
ing with  fear  ;  then  leading  him  to  a  seat — 

"  Come,"  said  he,  "  let  us  talk  like  men.  We  are  neither 
enemies  nor  rivals  ;  we  are  brothers,  having  one  and  the  same 
interest  at  stake." 

"Yes,  sir,"  murmured  Strozzi,  obsequiously. 

"  Well,  then,  look  at  me.    Did  you  ever  see  me  before  ? " 

Strozzi  raised  his  obedient  eyes  and  looked — for  a  while,  in 
blank  amazement.  But  gradually  his  black  orbs  dilated,  and 
a  sudden  flash  of  intelligence  crossed  his  face.  He  breathed 
hard. 

"I  think,  sir,  I  think  you  are — are — ah,  y^s  !  I  know. 
You  are  Count  Barbesieur  de  Louvois." 

"  Right,  right,"  cried  Barbesieur.  "  Laura  Strozzi's  broth- 
er." 

"  Are  you  the  brother  of  my  darling  Laura  ? "  cried  Strozzi. 
"  If  you  are,  you  are  welcome,  sir.  Oh,  if  she  were  but  alive 
to  see  you  ! " 

"  Alive  ?  What  do  you  mean  ?  Where  do  you  suppose  her 
to  be?" 

"  She  is  dead,"  replied  Strozzi,  his  eyes  overflowing  with 
tears.     "  Dead— my  own,  my  precious  angel ! " 

"  Of  what  did  she  die  ?  "  asked  Barbesieur,  highly  amused 
at  poor  Strozzi's  grief. 

Strozzi  shook  his  head.  *'  No  one  on  earth  knows,  sir.  She 
must  have  dissolved  in  a  sunbeam,  and  gone  back  to  heaven, 
for  her  corpse  was  never  found  here  below." 

•*  Strozzi,  you  are  mistaken,"  exclaimed  Barbesieur,  with  an 
Authoritative  gesture.  "  Mark  my  words,  and  believe  them, 
or  I  shall  be  very  angry.  The  Marchioness  Laura  is  not  dead. 
She  lives  here  on  earth,  not  far  away  from  you." 

"  She  lives  ! "  repeated  Strozzi,  starting  from  his  seat  and 


THE  AMBROSIA.  521 

falling  at  Barbesieur's  feet.  "  Tell  me  where  she  is.  Let  me 
go,  let  me  go,  and  bring  her  home.     Come — come  with  me  ! " 

"Wait  a  minute.  She  is  living  with  Eugene  of  Savoy, 
disgracing  you  and  me  both.  Before  you  bring  her  home,  you 
must  take  the  life  of  her  paramour,  and  just  as  soon  as  you 
have  done  that,  she  will  be  freed  from  the  spell  that  binds  her, 
and  will  love  nobody  but  you." 

"  Ah,  he  shall  die,"  muttered  Strozzi. 

"  Yes,  he  must  die,  and  you  must  kill  him.  But  /  shall  fur- 
nish the  means.  And  now  to  work,  to  prepare  the  ambrosia 
that  shall  give  him  immortality  1 " 


CHAPTER  Vn. 

THE  AMBROSIA. 

Thanks  to  the  illness  of  the  Duke  of  Savoy,  the  summer 
campaign  of  1692  was  of  short  duration.  The  allies  had  dis- 
persed and  retired  to  winter-quarters  ;  the  imperial  army  had 
retreated  to  Piedmont ;  and  the  oflBcers  in  command  of  the 
several  divisions  had  betaken  themselves  to  Turin  to  enjoy  the 
festivities  that  followed  the  recovery  of  Victor  Amadeus. 

Eugene  had  been  invited  with  the  rest ;  but  he  gave  his 
health  as  an  excuse  for  avoiding  the  changeable  winds  of 
Turin,  and  seeking  the  balmy  atmosphere  of  Nice,  where,  hav- 
ing found  comfortable  quarters  for  his  troops,  he  proposed  to 
pass  the  coming  winter. 

Victor  Amadeus  made  great  pretence  of  regret  at  Eugene's 
absence ;  but,  truth  to  tell,  he  was  not  sorry  to  escape  the 
scrutiny  of  his  clear-sighted  cousin,  who,  for  his  part,  was 
happy  beyond  expression  in  the  devotion  of  his  men,  and  the 
companionship  of  his  Laura. 

Here  in  the  peaceful  seclusion  of  the  obscure  little  village 
of  Nice,  Eugene  and  Laura  enjoyed  unalloyed  happiness.  The 
fishermen  and  sailors,  that  formed  the  principal  part  of  its  pop- 
ulation, knew  nothing  of  the  history  of  the  grand  Austrian 
officer  that  had  come  to  live  among  them.    In  their  eyes,  the 


522  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

beautiful  signora  was  his  wife,  as  a  matter  of  course  ;  and  they 
sunned  themselves  in  the  radiance  of  her  beauty,  without  ever 
giving  a  thought  to  the  nature  of  the  ties  that  bound  her  to 
the  field-marshal. 

They  were  without  an  obstacle  to  their  happiness.  "Eugene, 
sitting  at  a  table  covered  with  paper  and  charts,  wrote  dis- 
patches, and  planned  his  next  campaign  ;  while,  on  an  otto- 
man at  his  side,  Laura  read  or  embroidered,  often  interrupting 
her  occupation  to  gaze  at  his  beloved  countenance. 

As  for  him,  his  mind  was  clearer,  his  hand  was  firmer,  his 
spirit  seemed  to  dominate  every  subject  of  its  contemplation, 
when  she  was  by.  Oftentimes  he  paused  in  his  labors  to  watch 
the  delicate  outline  of  her  sweet  face,  and,  when  their  eyes 
met  and  they  exchanged  a  loving  smile,  he  felt  that  there  was 
a  communion  of  hearts  that  beggared  language,  and  would 
have  no  interpreter  but  a  glance. 

They  were  sitting  together  on  the  perron  of  their  villa, 
which  looked  out  upon  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean.  The 
door  leading  to  the  drawing-room  was  open,  exposing  to  view 
a  harp  from  which  Laura  had  just  risen.  Before  them  lay  the 
boundless  expanse  of  the  ocean,  blue  with  reflected  azure  from 
heaven  ;  and,  like  some  soft,  weird  melody  to  their  ears,  was 
the  murmuring  of  the  waves,  that  kissed  the  smooth,  white 
beach  before  them.  Elsewhere  all  was  silent,  for  Nature 
seemed  to  listen — unwilling,  by  a  sound  of  stirring  leaf,  to 
break  the  delicious  stillness. 

On  a  sudden,  a  wild  scream  was  heard  in  the  air  above,  and 
a  vulture,  cleaving  the  clouds,  flew  over  their  heads.  Laura's 
smiling  face  was  upturned  to  reply  to  some  loving  expression 
of  Eugene's  ;  but  when  the  vulture's  scream  was  heard,  she 
rose  to  her  feet,  and  with  a  slight  shudder  followed  its  flight 
until  it  lessened  to  a  dim  speck  on  the  horizon. 

"  What  has  disturbed  you,  dearest  ? "  asked  Eugene. 

"  Nothing,"  whispered  she.  "  And  yet  I  am  a  miserable 
coward.  Even  this  vulture's  scream  has  startled  me.  It 
seems  like  an  ill  omen." 

"Why,  my  darling,  why  should  a  vulture's  scream  be 
ominous  ? " 

"  Do  not  laugh  at  me,  Eugene  ;  but  my  old  nurse  used  al- 


THE  AMBROSIA.  523 

ways  to  cross  herself  when  a  vulture  was  in  sight,  and  if  it 
screamed,  she  wept,  for  she  said  it  betokened  the  approach  of 
misfortune." 

"  Why  should  you  share  the  superstition  of  your  nurse, 
dearest?" 

"Because  I  myself  once  heard  the  scream,"  said  Laura, 
growing  very  pale.  "  I  was  standing  with  my  nurse  on  a  bal- 
cony of  Bonaletta  Castle,  and  she  was  making  wreaths  of 
pomegranate  and  orange  from  the  blossoms  I  plucked.  Mean- 
while she  was  telling  me  a  tale  about  some  enchanted  princess, 
to  which  I  was  listening  with  my  whole  heart.  Suddenly  I 
heard  the  cry  of  a  vulture,  the  old  woman  dropped  her  flowers, 
clasped  her  hands,  and  cried  out :  'Oh,  my  Grod  !  there  is 
woe  at  hand  !  CJome,  child,  come  to  the  chapel,  and  pray  the 
Lord  to  avert  it.'" 

"  And  it  was  averted  by  your  dear  prayers,  was  it  not  ? " 
asked  Eugene,  kissing  her. 

"  Alas,  no  !  Not  many  hours  afterward,  I  was  called  to  my 
mother's  room.  "  She  lay  on  her  bed,  dying, — in  her  hand, 
a  crumpled  letter.  The  letter  was  from  Barbesieur,  and  its 
contents  were  her  death-blow  1  Eugene,  she  never  opened 
her  eyes  again  ! — And  oh,  how  she  loved  me— that  dear 
mother  I " 

*'  Who  that  knows  you  can  help  loving  you  ? "  said  Eugene, 
tenderly.  "  Look  at  me,  my  treasure — look  at  me,  and  smile. 
What^-tears  ? " 

'*  I  am  thinking  of  my  mother,  dear,  and  of  her  wretched 
life.  It  humiliates  me  to  remember  that  she.  who  was  a  saint, 
suffered  so  many  sorrows,  while  I,  her  child,  who  have  done 
nothing  to  merit  it,  am  too,  too  happy." 

**  Nothing  to  merit  happiness  ?  You,  whose  constancy  and 
heroism  I  could  not  dare  to  imitate  ?  Ah,  Laura,  remember 
that  before  I  knew  you,  I  was  without  hope,  without  trust, 
without  love.  You  crossed  my  path,  and  then  my  soul  began 
to  soar  to  Qod  ;  for  God  is  love,  and  he  that  knows  not  love 
knows  not  what  it  is  to  adore  his  Creator.  You  are  not  only 
the  architect  of  my  happiness,  beloved,  but  that  of  my  reli- 
gion." 

Laura  flung  her  arms  around  his  neck,  and  rested  her  cheek 


524:  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

against  his.  "  And  you — ^you  are  my  sun — the  luminary  of 
my  life  I  Without  you,  all  is  dark  and  void.  Oh,  Eugene  ! 
be  prudent,  love,  and  beware  of  your  enemies  ;  they  encom- 
pass you  with  snares.  Do  not  go  unarmed  to  the  barracks,  for 
not  long  ago  the  soldiers  saw  a  man  following  you  after  dusk. 
They  searched  him,  and  found  on  his  person  a  poniard,  and  in 
his  possession  a  purse  of  gold." 

"  We  cannot  deny  that  the  dagger  and  bowl  seem  to  be  the 
order  of  the  day,  in  this  land  of  bravi,"  returned  Eugene,  "  and 
I  am  continually  warned  that,  dead  or  alive,  the  French  are 
resolved  to  possess  themselves  of  my  body.  But  between  in- 
tention and  execution  there  lies  a  wide  path,  and,  in  spite  of 
prison  and  steel,  I  hope  to  tread  it  safely.*  So  do  not  be  un- 
happy on  my  account,  sweet  one.  Let  me  look  in  those  dear 
eyes,  and  there  read  the  poem  of  our  love — a  love  that  death 
itself  shall  not  overcome." 

"  No,  not  death  itself,"  said  Laura,  repeating  his  words,  and 
nestling  close  to  his  heart.  He  laid  his  hands  upon  her  head, 
and  blessed  and  kissed  her. 

"  So  would  I  love  to  die — so — resting  on  thy  heart,  and  gaz- 
ing into  thy  face,"  murmured  she,  her  eyes  filling  with  tears 
of  joyful  emotion. 

"  Die  ! "  exclaimed  he,  shuddering.  "  Love  cannot  die. 
Through  all  eternity,  its  choral  hymn — " 

He  unclasped  his  arms,  for  steps  were  heard  along  the  cor- 
ridor, and  presently,  within  the  frame  of  the  open  door,  was 
seen  an  orderly  attached  to  the  household.  Laura  retreated 
to  the  parlor,  while  Eugene  demanded  the  reason  of  an  intru- 
sion so  untimely  upon  his  privacy. 

"Your  highness,  a  courier  has  arrived,  with  dispatches 
from  the  Duke  of  Savoy.  They  are  so  important  as  to  require 
immediate  attention,  and  he  will  deliver  them  to  no  hands  but 
your  own." 

"Admit  him,"  said  Eugene,  entering  the  drawing-room, 
and  joining  Laura,  who  had  taken  a  seat  before  her  easel,  and 
was  preparing  to  paint.  "  Shall  I  see  the  courier  in  my  cabi- 
net, or  receive  him  here  ? "  said  he. 

♦  Eugene's  own  words. — See  Armath,  "  Life  of  Prince  Eugene,"  vol.  L, 
p.  51. 


THE  AMBROSLl  525 

"Remain  here,  my  dearest,  and  let  me  hear  the  soimd  of 
your  voice."  So  saying,  she  drew  the  hangings  together,  and, 
in  the  deep  embi'asure  of  the  bay-window,  was  entirely  con- 
cealed from  view.  Gliding  back  into  her  seat,  she  raised  her 
loring  eyes  to  the  canvas  whereon  she  was  painting  a  portrait 
of  her  Eugene. 

"  I  shall  never,  never  catch  the  expression  of  those  wonder- 
ful eyes,"  said  she  to  herself.  "  This  is  their  color,  but  where 
is  their  heavenly  light  ?    How  shaJl  I  ever  transmit—" 

She  started,  let  fall  her  palette,  and  gazed,  horror-stricken, 
at  the  hangings.  She  had  heard  a  voice,  the  tones  of  which, 
she  knew  not  why,  made  the  blood  freeze  within  her  veins. 
These  were  the  words  she  heard  :  "  Here,  your  highness,  are 
my  dispatches."  Words  without  significance,  but  Laura 
shivered  from  head  to  foot.  With  trembling  hand,  she  parted 
the  hangings  and  looked  out. 

There,  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  stood  Eugene,  in  the  act  of 
opening  a  sealed  paper.  For  one  moment,  her  eye  rested  ten 
derly  upon  the  beloved  image  ;  then  she  glanced  quickly  at 
the  person  who  stood  by  the  door.  He  wore  the  Sardinian 
uniform,  and  stood  in  a  respectful  posture,  his  eyes  cast  down. 

But  Laura  ?  She  stared  at  his  swarthy  face  and  bloodless 
lips,  the  sunken  cheeks,  and  beetle  brow,  with  a  strange  repug- 
nance that  almost  shaped  itself  into  some  old,  forgotten  dis- 
Hke. 

"  I  must  have  seen  him  somewhere,"  thought  she,  "  and  the 
dim  remembrance  of  the  countenance  pains  me  terribly.  If 
he  would  but  speak  again  I  I  surely  would  recognize  that 
voice— that  voice  which  sounds  to  my  ear  like  some  retrospec- 
tive agony  of  which  I  may  have  dreamed  long  years  ago." 

Eugene  still  held  the  paper.  He  had  opened  it,  and  was 
turning  it  in  and  out,  with  an  expression  of  great  surprise. 
"  What  am  I  to  understand  by  this  mystification  ? "  said  he. 

"  Your  highness,"  returned  the  courier,  *'  the  dispatches  are 
secret,  and  written  with  Rympathetic  ink.  If  you  will  hold 
them  over  a  light  until  a  vapor  begins  to  rise  from  them,  the 
writing  will  appear." 

Eugene  rang  and  ordered  a  light.  He  stood  smilingly^ 
■cmtinizing  the  blank  pages  of  his  letter  ;  the  courier  kept  his 


526  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

eyes  on  the  floor,  and  Laura  behind  the  hangings  stood  con- 
templating the  scene,  her  heart  throbbing  as  though  it  would 
burst.  She  saw  the  orderly  place  the  wax-light  upon  the 
table,  and  Eugene  advance  and  hold  the  dispatch  above  it. 
She  turned  unconsciously  toward  the  courier.  His  eyes,  no 
longer  riveted  on  the  floor,  glared  horribly  at  Eugene  ;  and  in 
their  glance  were  written  manifest  hatred  and  exultation. 

For  one  moment  Laura  felt  as  though  she  were  stiffening 
to  stone  ;  then,  dashing  aside  the  curtains,  she  bounded  to  the 
table,  crying  out  with  all  the  strength  of  her  love  : 

"  Eugene,  'tis  Strozzi !  "  And,  tearing  the  poisoned  paper 
from  his  hands,  she  flung  it  at  the  feet  of  the  courier. 

He  sprang  forward,  and  seized  her  in  his  arms.  Eugene 
darted  to  her  rescue,  and  strove  with  all  his  might  to  free  her 
from  Strozzi's  grasp.  But  despair  and  insanity  had  lent  him 
strength,  and  vain  was  all  striving  to  unlock  his  hands  as  they 
clutched  her  slender  throat,  and  threatened  her  with  speedy 
death. 

Eugene  made  one  bound  to  the  table,  and  snatched  up  his 
pistols.  At  the  same  moment,  a  dagger  gleamed  in  the  air, 
Laura  fell  back  with  a  piercing  cry,  and  Strozzi,  kneeling  over 
her  prostrate  body,  covered  her  face  with  kisses. 

The  sharp  report  of  the  pistol  was  heard — the  murderer 
leaped  up  into  the  air,  and  then  dropped  dead  upon  the  floor. 
And  close  beside  him  lay  Laura  with  a  poniard  in  her  breast, 
whose  hilt  of  diamonds  rose  and  fell  with  her  quick  breathing, 
and  glistened  brightly  in  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun  that  gild- 
ed the  terrible  picture. 

Instinctively  Eugene  would  have  withdrawn  the  murder- 
ous weapon  from  his  darling's  heart,  but  he  felt  his  arm  with- 
held, and  turning  beheld  Doctor  Franzi. 

The  doctor  shook  his  head,  sadly.  "  Do  not  touch  it,"  whis- 
pered he,  "  or  her  life-blood  will  gush  out,  and  she  will  die  at 
once." 

With  a  look  of  despair,  the  wretched  man  arose,  and  beck- 
oned to  the  doctor  to  follow  him  to  the  balcony. 

"  The  truth,"  gasped  he,  while  his  eyes  glared  as  if  they 
would  have  started  from  their  sockets.     "  Must  she  die  ? " 

"  She  will  die  instantaneously  if  the  dagger  is  withdrawn. 


THE  AMBROSIA.  527 

I  am  familiar  with  the  thrusts  of  these  Venetian  bravi — when 
they  aim  at  the  heart  death  follows  the  stroke  immediately  ; 
but  when  they  strike  the  breast,  it  ensues  with  a  gush  of  blood, 
at  the  withdrawal  of  the  weapon." 

"  Is  there  any — hope  ? " 

The  doctor  knew  not  how  to  shape  an  answer  to  this  heart- 
rending appeal.  He  turned  away  his  face,  and  Eugene  under- 
stood the  mute  reply. 

"■  How  long  ? "  asked  he,  almost  inaudibly. 

"  If  it  were  any  other  woman,  I  should  expect  internal 
hemorrhage  to  ensue  within  half  an  hour  ;  but  the  strong  will 
of  the  marchioness  will  ward  off  death  for  the  space  of  an 
hour." 

Eugene  stifled  a  groan.     "  O  God  !  is  there  no,  no  help  ? " 

"None.  Science  cannot  prevail  against  the  well-directed 
blow  of  a  Venetian  dagger.  But  the  marchioness  will  not 
suffer." 

"No,"  sobbed  Eugene,  "for  she  dies  ;  but  I— I—" 

"  Go  to  her,  my  dear  friend — go  before  she  calls,  for  every 
exertion  she  makes  will  hasten  the  end." 

Eugene  wrung  his  hands.  "  Not  yet — I  cannot.  I  must 
have  a  moment  to  conquer  this  overwhelming  anguish.  Go 
to  her  yourself,  doctor — tell  her — I—" 

But  the  doctor  was  already  in  the  parlor,  and  Eugene  was 
alone.  He  leaned  over  the  balcony  and  stared  out  at  the  sea  ; 
the  breeze  had  freshened,  and  the  sound  of  the  waves  as  they 
dashed  against  the  shore  seemed  to  mock  at  his  agony.  He 
looked  above :  the  skies  were  serene  and  indifferent  to  his 
misery.  The  sun  was  setting  in  a  flood  of  red  and  gold. 
Alas  I  alas  !    For  Laura,  it  would  rise  no  more  1 

But  Eugene  remembered  that  she  had  but  an  hour  to  live, 
and,  shuddering,  he  overcame  his  weakness  and  approached 
the  dying  girl.    She  held  out  her  hands,  and  smiled. 

"  Eugene,"  said  she,  "  I  long  for  air  and  light.  May  I  be 
lifted  out  upon  the  balcony  ? " 

Eugene  looked  at  Doctor  Franzi,  who  beckoned  to  the  serv- 
ants. They  rolled  a  divan  to  the  spot  where  the  marchioness 
lay,  and  she  was  placed  upon  it,  and  gently  removed  to  the 
balcony.    She  thanked  them  all  for  their  kindness,  and  each 


528  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

member  of  her  household  kissed  her  hand,  and  went  away- 
weeping.  No  one  now  remained  with  her  save  Eugene  and 
the  doctor. 

"  Step  aside  for  a  moment,  beloved,"  said  she.  "  I  would 
speak  a  few  words  with  our  dear  friend." 

He  obeyed,  and  retired  out  of  hearing,  but  not  out  of  sight. 
He  could  not  do  that.     They  had  but  half  an  hour  ! 

"  Doctor,"  said  Laura,  "  I  must  die,  must  I  not  ? " 

"  All  things  are  possible  with  God,  but — " 

Her  eyes  filled  with  tears.     "  Does  Eugene  know  it  ? " 

"  Alas,  he  does  ! " 

"  Doctor,  promise  me  that  if  in  his  grief  he  should  forget 
to  care  for  his  own  welfare,  you  will  watch  over  it  as  I  would 
have  done,  had  Heaven  permitted.  As  long  as  sorrow  pre- 
dominates over  reason,  you  will  enter  his  room  eveiy  morn- 
ing, and  speak  these,  my  dying  words  :  '  Laura  sends  you 
her  greeting,  and  bids  you  do  all  that  you  can  to  pre- 
serve your  health,  and  to  overcome  your  sorrow.'  Promise 
me  this." 

"  I  promise,"  replied  the  doctor. 

"  And  now,  tell  me.    Is  my  enemy — is  Strozzi  de£id  ? " 

"The  bullet  went  through  his  brain." 

"May  God  forgive  him,  as  I  do  !"  murmured  she.  "And 
now,  dear  friend,  farewell  !  I  thank  you  for  all  my  happiness 
on  earth,  and  bless  you  with  my  latest  breath  for  your  kind- 
ness to  Eugene  and  to  me."  * 

She  gave  him  her  hand,  which  he  kissed,  and,  no  longer 
able  to  restrain  his  tears,  he  went  back  to  the  parlor.  There 
on  the  floor  lay  Strozzi  stark  and  dead,  his  glazed  eyes  staring, 
as  if  in  defiance,  to  heaven.  Doctor  Franzi  had  the  corpse  re- 
moved, and  threw  himself  wearily  upon  a  sofa.  Presently  he 
saw  Laura's  Italian  greyhound,  with  a  piece  of  paper  between 
its  teeth,  with  which  it  seemed  to  be  playing.  He  was  watch- 
ing its  motions,  as  people  whose  minds  are  preoccupied  with  a 
great  sorrow,  are  apt  to  watch  some  particular  object  within 
view,  when  suddenly  it  howled,  made  a  leap  into  the  air,  and 
fell  panting  on  the  floor.  The  doctor  stooped  to  examine  it. 
It  was  dying. 

♦  This  attempt  to  poison  Prince  Eugene  is  historical. 


THE  AMBROSIA.  529 

"Why,  the  poor  little  brute  has  been  poisoned  I "  said  he  to 
Conrad. 

Conrad  shook  his  head.  "  Impossible  I "  replied  he.  "  It 
has  been  with  me  this  whole  day,  and  came  with  me  hither 
not  half  an  hour  since." 

"  Stay,"  replied  the  doctor,  picking  up  the  bits  of  paper  that 
lay  scattered  over  the  carpet.  He  took  them  to  the  Ught,  and 
held  them  above  it  In  a  few  moments  a  white  vapor  mingled 
with  green  was  seen  to  rise  in  the  air,  and  an  odor  of  garlic 
pervaded  the  apartment. 

"  Come,  Conrad,"  exclaimed  the  doctor ;  "  leave  the  room 
quickly  I  Happy  it  is  for  us  that  all  these  doors  and  windows 
are  open,  or  my  curiosity  would  have  cost  me  my  life." 

**  And  the  marchioness  ? "  asked  Conrad,  sadly. 

The  little  French  clock  on  the  mantel  sti-uck  the  hour. 
"  You  hear,"  said  the  doctor.  "  She  has  not  a  half  an  hour  to 
Hve." 

Not  half  an  hour  to  live  !  And  Eugene  knew  it !  For 
above  the  breaking  waves,  above  the  tumultuous  beating  of 
his  bleeding  heart,  even  above  the  tones  of  her  dear  voice,  he 
heard  the  striking  of  that  clock. 

But  one  half  hour  1— He  was  on  his  knees,  her  little  hand 
locked  in  his,  and  her  eyes  fixed  upon  his  face,  with  a  look  of 
love  such  as  no  human  tongue  had  power  to  speak.  But  he 
could  not  bear  to  see  her  so  motionless  ;  he  feared  that  she 
was  about  to  expire. 

"  Speak  to  me,  my  angel ;  say  thou  lovest  me,"  sobbed  he. 

"  I  love  thee  1 "  said  she,  with  a  joyful  smile.  "  Ah,  Eugene, 
I  have  spoken  these  words  so  often  that  earth  and  air,  sky  and 
tea,  will  echo  them  forever." 

**  But  thou — thou  goest  from  me  ! " 

**  Qod  has  willed  it  thus.  But,  beloved,  how  beautiful  to 
me  is  the  death  that  giveth  life  to  thee  I  Ah,  my  sovereign  I 
lord  of  my  heart !  weep  not  for  her  who  dies  as  woman  loves 
to  die  I" 

*'  Weep  not  for  thee  1  Alas  !  shall  I  have  courage  to  bear 
the  burden  of  the  life  thou  hast  purchased  with  thine  own  ?" 

"  Yes,  God  will  give  thee  strength  to  fulfil  thy  heroic  des- 
tiny, my  Eugene.    We  have  been  very  happy  on  earth,  and 


530  PRINCE   EUGENE  AND  HIS   TIMES. 

in  heaven  He  will  perfect  our  imperfect  union.  "  Farewell, 
beloved,  farewell  ! " 

"  Oh,  look  at  me  once  more  !  "  cried  Eugene.  "  Laura, 
Laura,  speak  to  me  !  O  God  !  it  cannot  be  that  thou  must 
die!" 

She  made  no  answer,  but  her  fast-closing  eyes  were  fixed 
upon  his.  He  bent  closer  and  closer,  and  opened  his  arms, 
with  a  vain  longing  to  fold  her  to  his  heart.  But  he  durst 
not !  His  embrace  might  extinguish  the  feeble  spark  of  life 
that  glimmered  yet  for  his  momentary  consolation. 

But  his  tears  fell  upon  her  face,  and  awakened  her  failing 
senses.  She  spoke  again,  and  the  melody  of  her  voice  was 
like  the  faint  notes  of  an  ^olian  harp. 

"  Do  not  weep,"  murmured  she.  "  I  was  happy.  I  will  be 
near  to  thee  in  spirit.     I — " 

A  last  sigh  fluttered  from  her  lips,  and  the  -^olian  harp 
was  silenced  forever  ! 


CHAPTER  Vni. 

THE  BETROTHAL. 

The  Duchess  of  Orleans  sat  weeping  in  her  cabinet,  and 
yet  she  had  been  several  times  reminded  by  her  tire- women 
that  monsieur  awaited  ber  in  the  drawing-room.  She  held  in 
her  hand  a  letter — ^the  apparent  cause  of  her  unwillingness  to 
move. 

"It  has  terminated  as  I  feared,"  thought  she  ;  "her  short- 
lived happiness  has  been  purchased  with  her  life.  To  think 
that  her  relentless  foe  should  have  had  no  mercy  upon  her 
youth  and  beauty  I  And  so  it  is — ^to  the  good  are  apportioned 
tribulation  and  trials — to  the  wicked,  prosperity  and  long  life  ! 
God  is  merciful,  and  allows  to  those  who  are  destined  to  burn 
in  hell  their  short  season  of  triumph  on  earth.  But  I,  who 
am  no  saint,  will  avenge  my  dear  child's  murder,  by  exposing 
its  instigators  to  public  scorn.  My  poor,  darling  Laura  !  God 
only  knows  how  I  am  to  bring  it  about,  but  He  will  surely 
prompt  the  right  words  at  the  right  moment.     And  now  to 


THE  BETROTHAL.  53I 

discharge  the  tiresome  duties  of  the  sacrifice  I  made  to  the 
shameless  exaction  of  Louis  XIV.  !  Now  for  the  act  that  be- 
fouls the  escutcheon  of  France  with  the  blood  of  De  Monte- 
span's  bastard  ! " 

She  folded  her  letter,  and,  putting  it  in  her  bosom,  called 
with  her  stentorian  lungs,  for  Katharina. 

The  tire- woman,  who  had  been  anxiously  awaiting  the 
summons,  appeared  immediately,  and  approached  her  mistress, 
in  great  haste  to  commence. 

"  Katharina,"  began  the  duchess,  "  do  not  be  provoked  if  I 
reject  the  magnificent  attire  you  have  prepared  for  me  to-night. 
I  cannot  wear  it." 

Katharina  drew  back  in  terror.  "  So  your  royal  highness 
does  not  intend  to  appear  at  court  to-night  ? " 

"  I  intend  to  appear  there,  because  I  am  compelled  to  do 
so,"  returned  the  duchess  ;  *'  but  I  do  not  know  that  it  is  incum- 
bent upon  me  to  be  as  gay  as  a  peacock,  on  the  occasion  of  my 
poor  Philip's  betrothal  to  that  girl  of  De  Montespan's.  To  me 
it  is  more  like  a  funeral  than  a  festival,  so  you  may  get  out  my 
suit  of  court  mourning.  The  skirt  of  black  velvet,  the  train 
and  head-dress  of  purple." 

"  Is  the  Empress  of  Austria  dead,  that  your  royal  highness 
should  wear  purple  ?"  asked  Katharina.* 

"  A  personage  of  more  consequence  to  me  than  the  Empress 
of  Austria  is  dead— an  angel  has  taken  her  flight  to  heaven, 
and  no  royal  princess  can  replace  her  here  below.  Hush, 
Kathi— you  need  not  open  your  mouth  to  remonstrate,  for  my 
purple  mourning  I  will  wear,  and  nobody  in  France  shall 
hinder  me." 

Katharina  knew  this  so  well,  that  she  inclined  her  head, 
and  went  oflP  in  search  of  the  costume,  which,  as  Elizabeth- 
Charlotte  never  lingered  before  her  looking-glass,  was  donned 
in  less  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour.  She  returned  to  her  cabi- 
net, and  gave  a  quick  glance  at  her  image,  as  she  passed  before 
a  large  Venetian  mirror,  that  reached  from  floor  to  ceiling. 
She  smiled,  and  began  an  apostrophe  to  herself,  after  the  fol- 
lowing manner : 

•  At  tht  court  of  Louis  XIV.,  purple  velvet  was  worn  In  the  deepest 
monmlng  only. 


532  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

''  You  are  unquestionably  a  homely  woman  ;  and,  in  the 
finery  that  decks  royalty,  you  look  somewhat  like  the  scare- 
crows I  have  seen  in  gardens  at  home.  But,  soberly  clad  as 
you  are  at  this  moment,  you  are  not  an  unsightly  or  undigni- 
fied woman,  nor  would  my  poor  murdered  darling  despise 
me,  were  she  to  see  me  now.  Ah,  Laura  !  would  that  the 
battle  of  life  were  over  for  me,  as  it  is  for  thee  !  For 
the  world  has  apportioned  to  me  much  vexation,  but  little 
happiness." 

She  turned  away  from  the  mirror,  with  a  sigh.  "  Well,  I 
may  not  mourn  any  longer.  I  must  put  on  my  court-face,  and 
sing  with  old  Luther  : 

*  It  must  be  so, 
That  pain  and  woe 
"Will  ever  follow  sin ; 
Then  go  your  ways  * — " 

The  duchess  was  singing  out  this  doggerel  in  a  rough,  loud 
contralto,  when  her  chamberlain  appeared  at  the  door,  and  an- 
nounced that  his  royal  highness  was  waiting  for  her  to  de- 
scend. 

"  Tell  monsieur  not  to  let  me  detain  him,"  replied  she.  "  I 
will  be  escorted  to  the  Louvre  by  the  Duke  de  Chartres.  Hey, 
Kathi !  come  with  my  wrappings  ! " 

Kathi  had  just  enveloped  her  highness's  stout,  robust  form 
in  a  cloak  of  purple  velvet,  when  the  little  duke  came  skipping 
into  the  room. 

"  Here  I  am,  ch^re  maman,"  cried  he  ;  "  here  is  Cupid, 
ready  to  attend  on  Venus." 

The  duchess  replied  with  a  glance  of  displeasure,  and  took 
his  arm.  As  they  were  crossing  the  corridor,  she  said  :  "  Cu- 
pid was  a  fractious  and  rebellious  boy,  and  I  remember  that 
Venus  had  many  a  time  to  box  his  ears  for  his  misbehavior. 
You  are  quite  right  to  liken  yourself  to  Cupid,  for  you  are  just 
as  contrary  as  he — " 

"  And  just  as  handsome  ? "  asked  the  duke,  coaxingly. 

The  duchess  tried  to  suppress  a  smile.  "  You  are  a  little 
puppy,"  said  she  ;  "and  if  I  resemble  Venus  in  no  other  way, 
I  shall  imitate  her  maternal  corrections,  and  let  you  feel  the 


THE  BETROTHAL.  58$ 

freight  of  my  hand,  if  you  provoke  me,  sir/'  And  so  saying, 
ihe  tumbled  herself  into  the  coach. 

''  I  have  ali-eady  felt  its  weight,"  sighed  the  young  duke, 
"and  a  right  heavy  hand  it  is,  when  it  is  lifted  to  chastise." 

"Then  take  care  not  to  deserve  its  chastisements.  But 
now,  Philip,  listen  to  me,  and  be  serious.  It  is  understood  be- 
tween us,  that  you  refuse  to  sign  the  contract — that  you  avow 
loudly  your  aversion  to  marriage  in  general,  and  to  Mademoi- 
selle de  Blois  in  particular  ;  and  that  you  throw  yourself  at  the 
feet  of  the  king,  and  ask  for  two  years'  delay." 

"  Oh,  yes,  maman,  yes,  of  course,"  replied  Philip,  hurriedly. 
*'I  understand  it  all  perfectly.  Ah,  here  we  are  at  the 
Louvre  !    Allow  me  to  assist  you  to  alight." 

And  the  duke,  vastly  pleased  that  the  maternal  lecture  was 
at  an  end,  leaped  from  the  coach,  and  escorted  his  mother  to 
the  palace. 

The  royal  family,  with  the  nobles  and  dignitaries  that  were 
to  witness  the  sig^ning  of  the  contract,  were  in  the  king's  cabi- 
net. The  court  awaited  them  in  one  of  the  magnificent  rooms 
of  state. 

On  a  marble  slab,  supported  by  three  gilded  dolphins,  lay  a 
long  roll  of  parchment,  and  close  by  was  an  inkstand  of  gold, 
set  with  sapphires  and  diamonds.  The  king  was  in  an  adjoin- 
ing apartment,  anxiously  waiting  the  arrival  of  the  Duchess 
of  Orleans  and  the  bridegfroom-elect. 

*'  Methinks,"  said  Louis  to  monsieur,  *'  that  madame  makes 
me  wait." 

As  these  words  were  uttered  with  great  severity,  the  duke 
was  abashed,  and  scarcely  knew  what  he  way  saying.  *'  Your 
majesty,"  stammered  he,  "  you  know  how — may  I  entreat  of 
you—'' 

"  Her  royal  highness  the  Duchess  of  Orleans,  and  the  Duke 
de  Chartres,"  cried  the  gentleman  usher. 

Louis  rose  from  his  arm-chair,  and  advanced  to  greet  his 
eccentric  sister-in-law.  Suddenly  he  drew  back,  and  looked 
like  a  Jupiter  Tonans. 

"  Madame,''  said  he,  ejring  the  duchess  from  head  to  foot — 
from  her  purple  featbers  to  the  very  edge  of  her  long  purple- 
Telvet  train—"  madame,  what  means  this  extraordinary  attire  ? 


534  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

Have  you  forgotten,  in  one  of  your  fits  of  absence,  that  you 
were  invited,  not  to  a  funeral,  but  to  a  betrothal  ? '' 

"  Sire,"  replied  the  undismayed  duchess,  "  I  am  not  subject 
to  fits  of  absence  ;  but  I  beg  to  apologize  for  my  dress.  It  is 
appropriate  to  my  feelings,  for  I  have  just  experienced  a  most 
painful  loss." 

"What  member  of  your  family  is  dead?"  asked  his  ma- 
jesty. 

"  Not  a  member  of  my  family,  but  a  beloved  friend,  has 
been  foully  murdered." 

"  Murdered  ! "  echoed  Louis.     "  Who  has  been  murdered  ? " 

"  Sire,  I  will  tell  you,  but  Monsieur  Louvois  must  be  by  to 
hear  the  recital." 

Monsieur  Louvois  was  summoned,  and  while  awaiting  his 
arrival,  Louis  expressed  a  wish  that  the  duchess  would  make 
her  story  as  short  as  possible  ;  he  was  anxious  to  have  this 
ceremony  over. 

"  Sire,  I  shall  do  my  best,"  was  the  reply. — "  Ah,"  continued 
Elizabeth-Charlotte,  "  here  is  Monsieur  Louvois.  Perhaps  he 
can  tell  your  majesty  why  I  am  in  mourning." 

"  I ! "  said  Louvois,  with  a  defiant  stare  at  his  enemy.  "  1 
have  not  the  honor  of  being  in  the  secrets  of  madame." 

"But  she  has  the  misfortune  to  be  in  yours,"  cried  the 
duchess. 

"  Sire,  a  few  years  ago,  there  appeared  at  your  majesty's 
court  a  young  girl  of  extraordinary  beauty  and  worth.  She 
was  one  of  my  maids  of  honor,  and  was  as  dear  to  me  as  my 
own  child.  Lovely,  innocent,  and  virtuous,  as  she  was,  she 
was  an  object  of  aversion  to  her  own  kindred.  She  became 
ardently  attached  to  a  youth  of  rank  equal — I  mean  to  say,  su- 
perior to  hers,  against  whom  her  relatives  entertained  a  preju- 
dice that  manifested  itself  by  every  species  of  persecution. 
There  could  be  no  reasonable  objection  to  the  alliance,  but  the 
lovers  knowing  that,  for  very  hatred  of  them  both,  the  maid- 
en's father  would  oppose  their  union,  agreed  to  be  married  in 
secret.  They  were  betrayed,  and  you  will  scarcely  believe  me, 
your  majesty,  when  I  tell  you  that  the  poor  girl's  own  father 
and  brother  deceived  her  by  forged  letters,  and  so  arranged 
matters  that  they  came  by  night,  and,  substituting  a  man  whom 


THE  BETROTHAL.  535 

she  detested,  for  her  lover,  they  obtained  her  signature  to  a 
fraudulent  marriage." 

"  Her  father  did  his  duty,"  interrupted  Louvois.  "  He  had 
a  right  to  select  her  husband,  and  exercised  his  right.  I  hope 
that  his  majesty  is  of  the  same  opinion." 

"  Madame,"  said  the  king,  taking  no  notice  of  Louvois*  re- 
mark, "  pray  continue  your  narrative." 

**  Your  majesty,  the  miserable  girl  refused  ever  to  acknowl- 
edge the  marriage.  The  man  they  had  forced  upon  her  im- 
prisoned her  for  years,  giving  out  to  the  world  that  she  was 
insane,  but  holding  out  to  her  a  promise  of  release,  whenever 
she  would  recognize  him  as  her  husband.  She  never  would — 
she  never  did." 

"  But  her  lover — what  was  he  about  all  this  time  ? "  asked 
Louis. 

"He  believed  himself  forgotten,  nor  could  he  discover 
whither  his  betrothed  had  been  conveyed  by  her  tymnt.  Fi- 
naDy  by  means  that  seem  almost  miraculous,  she  effected  her 
escape,  and  joined  him  ;  and,  believing  herself  to  be  his  spouse 
before  Grod,  they  lived  together  as  husband  and  wife." 

"  I  should  have  regarded  them  as  such,"  was  the  remark  of 
the  king.  "I  hope  that  her  unprincipled  relatives  did  not 
seek  to  repeat  their  sacrilege  by  any  attempt  to  part  her  from 
him  to  whom  she  had  veritably  plighted  her  faith." 

Louvois  could  not  contain  himself.  "  Your  majesty,"  cried 
he,  '*the  sacrilege  was  hers  and  not  her  father's.  She  was 
legally  married,  and  the  tie  that  bound  her  to  her  lover  was 
a  crime ! " 

Louis  contemplated  his  own  illegitimate  children,  there 
present,  and  Louvois'  words  roused  his  ire.  "  Sir,"  said  he, 
"  you  mistake  human  prejudices  for  principles.  How  can  you 
presume  to  contend  for  the  sanctity  of  an  infamous  falsehood 
like  that  of  a  marriage  ceremony  fraudulently  performed  ? " 

"  Thanks,  your  majesty,  thanks  for  those  generous  words,^ 
exclaimed  the  duchess,  joyfully.  "They  rehabilitate  the 
memory  of  my  darling,  who  was  as  pure  and  chaste  as  she  was 
constant  and  loving.  In  her  case,  endurance  of  the  world's 
contumely  was  heroism.  She  felt  it  to  be  unjust,  but  bore  it 
for  the  BtJLe  of  her  lover,  and  was  happy.    Her  relatives,  how- 


536  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

ever,  urged  by  their  hatred  of  the  poor  child,  made  use  of  her 
demented  husband  to  avenge  what  they  pleased  to  term  their 
outraged  honor.  They  armed  him  with  dagger  and  poison, 
and  her  own  brother  brought  him  to  the  town  where  she  was 
living,  and  led  him  to  her  villa." 

"  What  an  unnatural  and  wicked  brother,"  exclaimed  the 
young  Duke  of  Maine,  who  had  edged  himself  in  to  listen. 

The  duchess  gave  him  a  grateful  smile,  and  continued  her 
story : 

"  The  murderer  made  an  attempt  to  poison  his  rival.  He 
was  recognized  under  his  disguise  by  his  wife,  who  darted  for- 
ward to  save  her  lover's  life.  As  she  did  so,  the  assassin  drew 
from  his  bosom  a  poniard  and  stabbed  her  to  the  heart." 

"Horrible  ! "  was  the  exclamation  of  all  the  bystanders. 

"  Sire,"  resumed  the  duchess,  "  the  woman  so  foully  mur- 
dered by  the  tool  of  her  father  and  her  brother, — she,  whom  I 
loved  so  dearly,  and  whom  your  majesty's  self  honored  by 
your  attention,  was  Laura  Bonaletta — the  daughter  of  Mon- 
sieur Louvois,  and  the  sister  of  his  depraved  son — Barbe- 
sieur." 

"  The  Marchioness  Strozzi  ! "  cried  the  king,  turning  his  in- 
dignant eyes  upon  Louvois,  who  was  vainly  trying  to  effect  a 
retreat. 

"  Sir,"  said  Louis,  "  I  hope  you  will  be  able  to  disprove  this 
dreadful  charge,  and  convince  her  royal  highness  that  she  has 
been  misinformed." 

"  Sire,  I  am  not  aware  that  any  guilt  attaches  to  my  actions 
as  a  father.  I  married  my  daughter  to  the  man  whom  I  chose 
should  be  her  husband,  and  I  hastened  the  marriage  that  I 
might  save  her  from  the  artful  snare  which  Prince  Eugene 
was  laying  for  her  large  fortune." 

"  Sire,"  cried  the  duchess,  "  the  whole  world  knows  Prince 
Eugene  to  be  above  mercenary  considerations,  and  it  also 
knows  that  had  Monsieur  Louvois  not  driven  him  away  from 
France,  he  would  not  now  be  the  most  distinguished  officer  in 
the  army  of  a  foreign  prince." 

"  Very  true,"  returned  the  king. — "  Louvois  never  showed 
himself  to  have  less  penetration  than  when  he  undervalued 
the  genius  of  Prince  Eugene.     But  this  blunder  we  can  par- 


THE  BETROTHAL.  58t 

don,  so  he  but  clear  himself  of  participation  in  the  assassina- 
tion of  his  daughter." 

"  That  I  can  easily  do,  your  majesty,"  replied  Louvois.  "  I 
knew  nothing  whatever  of  the  attempt  on  Prince  Eugene's 
life." 

"  Then  how  comes  it  that  this  intercepted  letter  from  your 
own  hand  speaks  so  knowingly  of  it  to  your  son  ?— Sire,"  con- 
tinued the  duchess,  "this  letter  was  sent  to  me  by  Victor 
Amadeus.  The  courier  to  whom  it  had  been  confided  was  ar- 
rested by  a  vidette  of  the  duke's,  and  the  letter  forwarded  to 
his  highness.  From  my  step-daughter,  the  Duchess  of  Savoy, 
I  hold  my  information ;  and  it  was  imparted  to  me  at  her 
husband's  desire,  that  I  might  transmit  it  to  your  majesty,  and 
Louis  XIV.  might  hear  how  Louvois  vanquishes  the  heroes 
that  are  opposed  to  him  in  war.  Sire,  not  only  your  friends, 
but  your  enemies,  know  that  you  hold  such  warfare  in  abhor- 
rence." 

"  I  do,  indeed,"  cried  Louis,  "  and  I  thank  not  only  Victor 
Amadeus,  madame,  but  yourself,  who  have  not  shrunk  from 
the  ungrateful  duty  of  accusing  a  man  whom  many  another 
would  have  feared,  because  he  was  high  in  my  estimation.  I 
thank  you  that  you  have  given  me  occasion  to  vindicate  my 
honor  from  the  foul  blot  which  this  man  would  have  cast 
upon  it.  I  say  nothing  of  his  cruelty  to  his  unhappy  daugh- 
ter, for  that  I  leave  to  his  Maker.  But,  as  regards  the  attempt 
on  the  life  of  Prince  Eugene,  it  shall  be  investigated  ;— and 
woe  to  him,  should  he  be  inculpated  by  the  examination  of 
these  papers  ! — Go,  sir,  and  until  your  fame  is  cleared,  consider 
yourself  a  prisoner  in  your  own  house." 

Pale  and  trembling,  Louvois  retreated  from  the  royal  pres- 
ence. Around  the  door  of  the  cabinet  were  groups  of  high- 
bom  dames  and  titled  lords,  who  all  drew  back  to  let  him  pass. 
No  one  wished  to  breathe  the  atmosphere  that  was  tainted  by 
the  presence  of  a  suspected  murderer  ;  and  the  rumor  of  his 
disgrace  spread  so  rapidly  through  the  palace,  that  it  reached 
the  room  where  the  court  was  assembled,  and  every  man 
there  turned  his  back  upon  the  favorite  who,  an  hour  before, 
had  been  greeted  with  courtesy  and  respect  by  the  proudest 
nobles  in  the  land. 


538  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

The  king's  eyes  followed  the  bowed  figure  of  his  fallen 
minister  until  it  passed  out  of  sight ;  then,  as  if  nothing  had 
happened,  he  smilingly  addressed  the  Duchess  of  Orleans  : 

''  Madame,  will  you  take  the  bride  by  the  hand  ?  I,  myself, 
will  escort  the  bridegroom." 

Elizabeth-Charlotte,  who,  in  her  sorrow  for  the  tragical 
death  of  Laura,  had  forgotten  the  occasion  of  her  coming,  gave 
a  sudden  start,  and  her  heart  died  within  her.  She  turned 
her  sharp  eyes  with  a  searching  look  upon  the  Duke  de  Char- 
tres,  hoping  for  some  significant  glance  that  would  reassure 
her  as  to  his  intentions.  But  the  young  duke's  eyes  were 
turned  another  way  :  he  was  following  the  master  of  ceremo- 
nies, and  making  a  profound  inclination  before  the  king. 

Madame  dared  no  longer  hesitate  :  she  gave  her  hand  to 
Mademoiselle  de  Blois,  and  led  her  forward  to  the  table  where 
lay  the  dreaded  document. 

At  a  signal  from  the  king,  the  keeper  of  the  seal  advanced, 
and,  taking  up  the  parchment,  read  the  marriage  contract  of 
his  royal  highness  the  Duke  de  Chartres  with  Mademoiselle  de 
Blois.  The  duke's  marriage  with  the  king's  daughter  entitled 
him  to  the  grandes  entrees  du  cabinet,  and  the  entries  de  der- 
ri^re,— privileges  highly  prized  by  the  members  of  the  royal 
family.  The  contract  also  recognized  Mademoiselle  de  Blois  as 
a  daughter  of  France,  and  gave  her  a  dowry  of  two  millions 
of  livres,  several  large  estates,  and  a  complete  parure  of  costly 
diamonds. 

With  the  exception  of  madame,  everybody  was  enraptured 
with  the  royal  munificence.  Again  she  tried  to  meet  her  son's 
eyes,  but  they  were  steadfastly  fixed  upon  the  hand  of  the 
king  who  had  signed  the  contract,  and  was  in  the  act  of  plac- 
ing it  before  his  daughter. 

Mademoiselle  de  Blois  scribbled  her  name  under  that  of  her 
father,  and  passed  the  pen  over  to  the  bridegroom.  The  de- 
cisive moment  was  at  hand.  With  fast-throbbing  heart,  the 
duchess  bent  forward  to  hear  her  son's  rejection  of  this  insult- 
ing mesalliance,  when  lo  !  that  son,  with  a  placid  smile,  ac- 
cepted the  pen,  and  signed  ! 

A  cry  had  well-nigh  burst  from  his  mother's  lips,  as,  with 
every  show  of  respect,  he  presented  her  the  pen.    Speechless 


VENGEANCE.  539 

with  anger,  she  advanced  her  hand,  hut  it  was  not  to  take  the 
instrument  of  her  humiliation  :  it  was  to  administer  to  her  re- 
bellious son  a  box  on  the  ear  which  resounded  like  a  pistol- 
shot  through  the  apartment,  and  created  considerable  astonish- 
ment among  the  aristocratic  guests  therein  assembled.* 

The  young  duke  uttered  a  howl,  and,  rubbing  his  cheek, 
jumped  behind  the  hooped  dress  of  his  bride-elect. 

"  Madame  I "  exclaimed  the  king,  "  what  means  this  vio- 
lence?" 

"  Your  majesty,  I  was  killing  a  fly  that  had  lit  upon  Philip's 
cheek." 

"  It  must  be  a  robust  fly,  if  it  is  not  crushed  to  atoms,"  re- 
plied the  king,  much  amused. 

The  court,  unable  to  withstand  their  merriment,  burst  into 
one  simultaneous  shout  of  laughter,  under  cover  of  which 
Elizabeth-Charlotte,  with  tearful  eyes,  signed  the  fatal  docu- 
ment which  mingled  the  noble  blood  of  Orleans  with  the 
muddy  stream  of  illegitimacy. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

VENGEANCE. 

So  great  had  been  the  haste  of  the  courtiers  to  spread  the 
news  of  Louvois'  disgrace,  that  the  very  usher  who  opened  the 
door  that  led  into  the  vestibule,  performed  his  office  with  a 
superciliousness  which  proved  himi  to  have  heard  it  as  well  as 
his  betters. 

Louvois  felt  as  if  his  grave  were  yawning  before  him.  He 
had  forgotten  that  his  carriage  could  not  possibly  have  re- 
turned so  soon  ;  and  now  he  stood  alone  on  the  perron  of  the 
palace,  staring  up  and  down  the  street  in  the  vain  hope  of  con- 
cealing himself  in  a  fiacre  from  the  gaze  of  the  curious.  No 
sentinel  saluted  him,  no  soldier  presented  arms,  as,  ashamed 
of  his  rich  dress  and  sparkling  orders,  which  rendered  him 

*  Hbtoric«L~S«e  **  Letters  of  the  DacheM  of  Orleazu  to  the  PiinoeM  of 
Wftlei." 


540  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

conspicuous,  lie  walked  on  and  on,  an  object  of  curiosity  to 
every  passer-by.  At  length,  on  the  Pont  Neuf ,  he  met  a  dilap- 
idated old  hackney-coach,  amid  whose  threadbare  cushions 
he  was  glad  to  retreat  from  observation. 

On  his  arrival  home,  nobody  came  out  to  assist  him  to 
alight ;  for  how  could  the  lackeys  who  were  idling  around  the 
porte-cochere  sui'mise  that  the  occupant  of  that  shabby  vehicle 
was  their  haughty  master  ? 

He  entered  the  hotel,  and,  without  vouchsafing  a  word  to 
the  astounded  valets,  ascended  the  staircase  that  led  to  his  own 
private  apartments.  But  they  came  after  him  to  ask  whether 
he  was  indisposed,  and  whether  they  could  be  of  service. 

Their  offers  were  rejected  with  scorn  ;  but  Louvois  thought 
it  politic  to  inform  his  own  valet  that,  having  been  attacked 
with  sudden  indisposition,  he  had  been  forced  to  leave  the 
court-ball,  and  return  in  a  fiacre.  While  he  was  being  divest- 
ed of  his  rich  dress  and  long  curled  wig,  the  valet  went  on  to 
announce  that  Count  Barbesieur  had  arrived  from  Italy,  and 
was  desirous  of  seeing  his  father  as  soon  as  possible.  A  lady 
also  had  called  to  see  his  excellency  ;  and,  having  been  told 
that  he  was  at  the  great  court-festival,  she  had  replied 
that  he  would  be  apt  to  return  home  early,  and  she  would 
await  his  arrival,  for  she  had  important  business  to  transact 
with  him. 

"Where  is  the  lady  ?"  asked  Louvois. 

"  She  is  in  her  carriage  at  the  side  door  of  the  hotel.  Shall 
I  ask  her  in  the  drawing-room,  your  excellency  ? " 

"Later,"  said  Louvois.  "I  must  first  speak  with  my 
son." 

"  I  am  here,"  cried  Barbesieur,  who  had  silently  entered  the 
room. 

"  Leave  us,"  said  Louvois  to  the  valet,  "  and  when  Count 
Barbesieur  has  retired,  admit  the  lady.     I — " 

He  paused,  and  caught  at  the  arm-chair  for  support.  He 
had  become  suddenly  dizzy,  his  face  grew  scarlet,  his  eyes 
blood-shot,  and  his  breathing  oppressed. 

The  valet  hastened  to  his  assistance,  and  offered  him  a  glass 
of  water.  He  emptied  it  at  a  draught,  but  his  hands  shook  so, 
that  he  could  scarcely  hold  the  goblet.     Barbesieur  had  thrown 


VENGEANCE.  541 

himself  fuU  length  on  a  sofa,  whence  he  contemplated  his 
father  with  the  most  consummate  indifPereace. 

"  You  ought  to  be  bled,"  said  he,  carelessly. 

"  I  will  do  so.  It  may  relieve  me,"  replied  he,  panting. 
"Go,"  added  he  to  the  valet,  "go  for  Fagot." 

The  valet  hurried  off,  and  the  father  and  son  were  left 
alone  together.  The  former  lay  gasping  with  his  head  flung 
back  on  a  cushion  ;  the  latter  watched  him  closely,  but  with- 
out the  merest  appearance  of  sympathy  or  interest. 

After  a  pause,  he  spoke  :  "  Father,  have  you  forgotten  my 
presence  ? " 

Louvois  opened  his  eyes  wearily.  "  No  ;  I  have  not  forgot- 
ten it." 

"  You  do  not  ask  me  about  the  result  of  my  expedition," 
said  Barbesieur. 

"  Nor  do  you  seem  to  think  it  incumbent  upon  you  to  ask 
wherefore  I  suffer,  or  why  I  am  here  instead  of  being  where  I 
ought  to  be,  at  the  Jianqailles  of  Mademoiselle  de  Blois,"  re- 
plied Louvois,  whom  his  son's  indifference  had  stung  to  retimi- 
ing  energy. 

"  What  care  I  for  the  fianqailles  of  Mademoiselle  de  Blois  ? " 
answered  Barbesieur.  "  And  as  regards  your  indisposition,  it 
is  not  the  first  time  that  I  have  seen  you  similarly  affected. 
These  congestions  invariably  leave  you  stronger  than  they  find 
you  ;  so  let  us  pass  on  to  affairs  more  momentous.  I  have 
to  inform  you  that  my  expedition  to  Italy  has  resulted  in  a 
disastrous  failure.     Have  you  seen  my  courier  ? " 

"  No,  I  have  not  seen  him,  but  I  know  that  you  were  guilty 
of  sending  me  written  dispatches  on  a  subject  which  pen 
should  never  have  recorded." 

"  Oh  1 "  sneered  the  dutiful  son,  "  you  are  better,  I  see,  for 
you  grow  abusive.  Then  I  suppose  my  courier  has  been  ar- 
rested?" 

"  Ay,  and  your  letters  are  in  the  hands  of  Louis  XIV." 

"Can  it  be  poisible  ? "  cried  Barbesieur,  anxiously.  "How 
came  he  in  ponenion  of  them  ? " 

"They  were  given  him  by  the  Duchess  of  Orleans." 

"But  she-" 

"  She  received  them  from  her  step-daughter,  the  Duchess  of 


542  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

Savoy.  Not  only  them,  but  your  imbecile-written  promise  to 
Strozzi  that  bis  wife  would  return  to  bim  as  soon  as  Prince 
Eugene  was  dead." 

"  It  was  a  blunder,  I  admit,"  returned  Barbesieur.  "  But  tbe 
idiot  bad  so  set  bis  beart  upon  it  tbat  I  was  forced  to  yield  to 
bis  wbims  ;  tbere  was  no  otber  way  of  controlling  bim.  I  bad 
>no  sooner  given  bim  tbis  paper,  tban  be  became  as  plastic  as> 
clay." 

"  Nevertbeless,  Laura  is  dead,  and  Eugene  of  Savoy  lives." 

"Ob,  yes — tbe  tbing  miscarried,  but  bow,  I  cannot  con- 
ceive. I  was  close  at  band,  waiting  witb  borses  for  Strozzi, 
wbo  was  to  seize  Laura,  and  make  all  speed  for  Italy.  I 
waited  so  long,  tbat  at  last  I  ventured  to  creep  up  to  tbe  bouse, 
and  tbere  I  learned  bow  Strozzi  bad  stabbed  Laura,  and  Eu- 
gene bad  sbot  Strozzi.  As  soon  as  I  found  out  tbat  all  bad 
gone  awry,  I  galloped  off  to  Bonaletta,  to  get  my  sbare  of 
Strozzi's  and  Laura's  property.  But  tbe  covetous  relations 
would  not  let  me  lay  a  finger  on  Laura's  estates,  witbout  your 
written  autborization.  Tbat  brougbt  me  burriedly  to  Paris. 
I  want  it  at  once,  tbat  I  may  return  to  Bonaletta  to-day." 

"  You  must  remain  for  a  wbile  longer,"  said  Louvois. 

"  And  wby,  pray  ? " 

"  Because  you  must  at  least  wait  until  my  funeral  is  over," 
replied  tbe  unbappy  fatber. 

Barbesieur  began  to  laugb.  "  Ob,  papa  !  pray  don't  get 
sentimental.  People  are  not  apt  to  die  of  tbese  little  vex- 
ations. I  suppose  tbe  king  was  rude,  as  be  bas  been  many  a 
day  before  tbis — was  be  ? " 

"  He  was  more  tban  rude  ;  in  presence  of  all  bis  nobles  be 
accused  me  of  participation  in  Laura's  murder,  and  banisbed 
me  from  court  until  I  returned  witb  proofs  of  my  innocence." 

"  H'm — "  muttered  Barbesieur.     "  Tbe  affair  looks  ugly." 

"  Insulted  before  tbe  wbole  court,"  murmured  Louvois. 

"  Psbaw  !  Don't  take  it  so  mucb  to  beart.  It  is  not  your 
first  affront.  You  know  full  well  tbat  if  old  women  get  tbe 
better  of  you  to-day,  you  will  outwit  tbem  to-morrow.  Wit- 
ness your  feud  of  years  witb  De  Maintenon." 

"  I  sball  not  outwit  tbem  tbis  time,  Barbesieur.  Tbe  ducb- 
ess  bas  played  ber  cards  too  dexterously  for  me  to  escape. 


VENGEAXCE.  543 

Nop  would  the  king  befriend  me  ;  he  is  under  too  many  ob- 
ligations to  me  not  to  desire  my  humiliation  and  my  ruin. 
Moreover,  he  is  anxious  to  propitiate  the  Duke  of  Savoy,  and 
will  give  him  full  satisfaction  for  the  attempt  on  the  life  of 
his  kinsman.     I  am  lost — irretrievably  lost ! " 

'•  Then  so  much  the  more  imperative  is  it  for  us  to  lay  the 
foimdation  of  some  new  structure  of  fortune  elsewhere. — 
Luckily,  Laura's  large  estates  in  Italy  are  all-sufficient  to 
make  you  a  very  rich  man  yet.  So  give  me  authority  to  act 
for  you  ;  I  will  go  at  once  and  take  possession,  while  you  ar- 
range your  affairs  at  home,  and  then  follow  me  to  Italy. " 

"  He  thinks  of  nothing  but  wealth,"  murmured  Louvois  ; 
"he  has  no  shame  for  loss  of  reputation  or  good  name." 

"  Nonsense  ! "  said  Barbesieur,  with  a  coarse  laugh  ;  "  no 
man  that  has  money  loses  reputation.  Poverty  is  the  only 
crime  that  the  world  cannot  pardon,  and  you,  thanks  to  the 
Marchioness  Bonaletta,  have  just  inherited  a  fortune." 

Louvois  shuddered.  "A  fortune  through  the  murder  of 
my  child  ! " 

"  For  which  we  are  not  accountable,"  said  Barbesieur,  care- 
lessly. "  We  owe  that  obligation  to  Strozzi,  and  I  must  say  it 
was  the  only  sensible  thing  I  ever  knew  him  to  do." 

"  Silence  ! "  cried  Louvois,  incensed.  "  If  you  have  no  re- 
spect for  the  living,  have  some  reverence  for  the  dead  ! " 

Barbesieur  rose  with  a  yawn.  "I  see  that  my  honored 
father  is  not  in  a  mood  for  reasonable  conversation.  Here 
comes  the  surgeon  with  his  lancet.  Perhaps,  when  you  have 
lost  a  few  quarts  of  your  bad  blood,  you  may  see  things  in  a 
better  light."  So  saying,  he  sauntered  out  of  the  room.  With 
scorn  and  hatred  in  his  eye,  Louvois  watched  him  until  he 
disappeared  from  sight ;  then  turning  to  the  surgeon,  who  had 
entered  by  another  door — 

"  Be  quick,  and  take  some  blood  from  my  veins,  or  I  shall 
Boffocate  1 " 

A  half  an  hour  later,  the  operation  was  over,  and  Louvois 
felt  much  relieved.  His  face  was  pale,  his  eyes  no  longer 
bloodshot,  and  the  surgeon  having  prescribed  rest,  the  dis- 
graced favorite  was  left  alone. 

He  sat  propped  up  in  his  arm-chair,  staring  at  vacancy—' 


544  PRINCE  EUGENE   AND  HIS  TIMES. 

his  solitude  embittered  by  the  recollection  of  wliat  lie  was,  and 
what  he  had  been.  The  stately  edifice  of  greatness,  which  he 
had  spent  a  lifetime  in  erecting,  had  fallen  like  a  chdteau  de 
cartes,  leaving  nothing  behind  but  the  stinging  recollection  of 
a  glorious  past.  He  could  not  outlive  it — he  could  not  retire 
to  obscurity — he — 

Suddenly  he  shivered,  and  gazed  with  eyes  distended  at  the 
figure  of  a  woman  that  now  stood  against  the  portiere  op- 
posite. Great  God  !  had  delirium  seized  upon  his  senses  ? 
Were  the  memories  of  his  youth  about  to  take  shape  and  form, 
and  mingle  their  shadowy  images  with  the  tangible  realities 
of  life  !  He  knew  her — tall,  beautiful,  pale  as  she  was — and 
the  recognition  filled  him  with  terror  indefinable. 

He  knew  her  well !  In  her  youth  he  had  loved  her,  but 
she  had  scorned  his  love,  because  she  was  cherishing  the  hope 
of  becoming  Queen  of  France  !  This  triumph  had  been  denied 
her,  and  she  had  hidden  her  disappointment  by  a  marriage 
with  another.  And  fearfully  had  Louvois  avenged  her  rejec- 
tion of  his  love  I  He  had  cited  her  as  a  criminal,  before  the 
highest  tribunal  in  France,  and  had  driven  her  into  exile. 
Destiny  had  also  given  him  power  to  crush  her  son — to  blast 
his  life  as  a  lover,  and  his  good  name  as  a  man.  But  ah  !  that 
daughter  whom  Eugene  had  loved  !  He  had  blasted  her  life 
also,  and  had  given  her  over  to  a  monster  that  had  murdered 
her  !  So  young,  so  lovely,  so  attractive  !  She  had  died  to 
gratify  the  malice  of  her  own  father  ! 

Like  a  lightning-flash  these  thoughts  glanced  athwart 
his  brain,  while,  breathless  and  terror-stricken,  he  gazed  upon 
the  spectre  that  stood  against  the  portiere  ! 

Was  it  a  spectre,  or  some  delusion  of  his  disordered  mind  ? 
She  stood  motionless  as  a  marble  statue  of  Nemesis  ;  but  those 
eyes — those  glowing  eyes — there  was  life  and  hate  in  their 
fiery  depths  ! 

Louvois  had  not  the  i)Ower  to  look  away  ;  he  was  as  spell- 
bound as  a  bird  under  the  glance  of  the  basilisk. 

"  Olympia  1 "  cried  he,  at  last,  vrith  a  supreme  effort  to  dis- 
solve the  spell. 

She  threw  back  her  proud  head,  and  came  directly  in  front 
of  his  chair.     "  You  recognize  me,"  said  she,  in  tones  of  icy 


VENGEANCE.  545 

hauteur.  "  I  was  waiting  before  I  spoke,  to  see  whether  you 
had  forgotten  me." 

"  What  brings  you  hither  ? "  stammered  he,  confusedly. 

"  Destiny,"  replied  she,  sternly.  ''  Louvois,  God  is  just,  for 
He  has  chosen  me  to  be  the  instrument  of  your  destruction.  I 
was  travelling  through  Turin  to  nurse  my  son,  who  was  not 
expected  to  live.  I  learned  that  his  illness  was  of  the  heart — 
not  of  the  body.  His  Laura  had  been  murdered  before  his 
eyes,  and,  for  love  of  her,  he  was  in  danger  of  dying.  Ah, 
Louvois  I  it  was  the  second  time  you  had  almost  robbed  me  of 
my  child  I  But  God  is  just !  To  my  hands  were  confided  the 
proofs  of  your  participation  in  the  crime  of  your  daughter's 
assassination,  and  it  was  I  that  dehvered  them  to  the  Duchess 
of  Orleans.  She  had  her  Laura's  death  to  avenge,  I — great 
God  I  what  had  I  not  ?  The  humiliation  of  my  flight  from 
France — my  persecution  by  strangers  in  a  foreign  land — my 
son's  lifelong  sorrow  !— But  ah  !  you,  that  drove  him  from  his 
native  country,  have  fallen,  to  rise  no  more,  while  Eugene's 
name  is  but  another  word  throughout  the  world  for  genius 
and  valor." 

Louvois'  teeth  chattered  with  fear.  He  raised  his  hand,  as 
if  to  implore  forbearance.  She  gave  him,  in  return,  a  look  of 
scorn. 

'*  All  Paris  rings  with  your  disgrace.  The  populace  are  be- 
fore your  windows,  ready,  at  a  signal,  to  assault  your  palace, 
as,  at  your  son's  instigation,  they  once  assailed  mine.  Your 
servants  are  stealing  away,  and  you  are  forsaken  I  Poor, 
fallen,  powerless  Louvois  I " 

"  Not  so,"  screamed  Louvois,  "  not  so  I  If  I  am  powerless 
it  is  because  I  am  dying  1 "  And,  with  a  passionate  gesture, 
he  tore  the  bandages  from  his  arm. 

The  blood  gushed  out  like  water  from  a  fountain,  and 
Olympia  looked  on  for  a  while  in  cruel  enjoyment  of  her 
enemy's  mortal  agony.  But  her  hatred  was  unclouded  by 
pasnon. 

"*  It  were  a  kindness  to  suffer  you  to  die  now,"  said  she ; 
and  her  words  fell  like  sharp  icicles  upon  his  poor,  lacerated 
heart.  "But  you  shall  live  to  endure  the  contumely  yoa 
forced  upon  me  and  mine  I    Farewell !    I  go  to  call  for  help.'^ 


546  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

She  crossed  the  room,  and,  as  slie  entered  the  antechamber, 
Louvois  swooned,  and  fell  upon  the  floor. 

''  Go  to  your  lord,"  said  Olympia  to  the  valets  who  were 
waiting.  "The  bandage  has  become  loosened,  and  he  will 
bleed  to  death  if  you  are  not  prompt." 

Crossing  the  antechamber,  she  opened  the  door  that  led  to 
a  corridor  where  her  own  valet  was  awaiting  her  return. 

"  Can  you  tell  me  where  I  may  find  Count  Barbesieur  ? " 
asked  she. 

*'  Yes,  my  lady.  He  is  in  his  own  room,  to  which  I  was 
directed  by  his  valet." 

"  Show  me  the  way,"  said  the  countess,  following  the  man 
to  the  farther  end  of  the  long  corridor. 

"  Here,  my  lady,"  said  he,  pausing,  "  is  his  anteroom." 

"  Go  in  and  announce  me." 

The  valet  opened  the  door  and  crossed  the  antechamber. 
It  was  empty  ;  for  Barbesieur's  valet  was,  with  the  other  serv- 
ants, in  the  vestibule,  discussing  the  mysteries  of  the  evening. 
Seeing  that  no  one  was  there  to  announce  the  countess,  the 
lackey  knocked  until  he  heard  a  voice  from  within.  He  then 
threw  the  door  wide  open,  and  cried  out — 

"  The  Countess  de  Soissons  ! " 

Barbesieur,  who  was  seated  before  a  table,  deep  in  the  ex- 
amination of  the  title-deeds  of  the  Bonaletta  estates,  started  up 
in  amazement  at  the  unceremonious  interruption.  As  he 
turned  around  to  chastise  the  insolence  of  the  servant,  he  en- 
countered the  stately  figure  of  the  Countess  de  Soissons, 

"  It  is  long  since  we  met,"  said  she.  "  Do  you  remember 
the  occasion  of  our  meeting  ? " 

"  No,  countess,"  replied  he,  awed  by  her  queenly  bearing 
into  momentary  courtesy. 

"  I  will  refresh  your  memory.  "When  last  I  saw  you,  you 
were  at  the  head  of  the  rabble  that  mobbed  the  Palace  de  Sois- 
sons, and  had  just  received  a  wound  in  your  arm  from  the  pis- 
tol of  my  son,  Prince  Eugene.  I  had  not  the  satisfaction  of 
being  present  at  the  horsewhipping  he  administered  to  you  at 
Long  Champs,  for  I  was  obliged  to  fly  from  your  persecutions, 
and  I  have  never  set  foot  in  France  until  now." 

Barbesieur  laughed.     "  I  have  had  my  revenge.    I  owe  him 


VENGEANCK  647 

nothing.  The  very  grief  that  is  sapping  his  life  at  this  mo- 
ment is  the  work  of  my  hand." 

*'  I  know  it,  and  I,  in  my  turn,  have  avenged  his  woes." 

"  You  must  have  done  it  secretly,  then,  for  I  have  never 
felt  any  inconvenience  from  your  vengeance." 

"  You  will  experience  it  before  long.  Did  one  of  your  serv- 
ants bring  you  a  fine  peach  on  a  salver,  about  half  an  hour 
ago?" 

Barbesieur  turned  very  pale,  and  stammered,  "Yes." 

"Did  you  eat  it?" 

"Yes,"  murmured  he,  "I  did." 

"Then,  Barbesieur,  that  peach  avenged  Eugene  and  Laura 
both.     I  sent  it  to  you." 

"  You  ! "  cried  Barbesieur,  with  a  shudder. 

"Yes,"  replied  Olympia,  her  black  eyes  darting  fire  as  she 
spoke.  "  I  sent  you  the  peach,  and  if  you  have  eaten  it  (it  will 
be  very  slow  in  its  effects),  you  have  just  four  years  longer  to 
live!" 

As  he  heard  these  terrible  words,  Barbesieur  dropped,  like 
a  felled  ox,  to  the  floor. 

"Count  Barbesieur,"  cried  a  voice  in  the  antechamber, 
"your  father  is  dying  of  apoplexy." 

Barbesieur  started  up  with  an  oath,  and  darted  from  the 
room.  The  Countess  de  Soissons  followed  him  to  the  corridor. 
No  one  was  there,  for  the  servants  had  all  congregated,  as  near 
as  possible,  to  the  chamber  of  the  dying  statesman.  Olympia 
passed  on,  unchallenged,  reached  her  carriage,  and  set  off  at 
full  gallop  for  Nice. 

She  found  Eugene  improved,  and  sitting  up.  He  was  in 
his  arm-chair,  gazing  with  tearful  eyes  at  a  portrait  opposite — 
a  portrait  of  LAura,  as  Sister  Angelica.  His  thoughts  were  so 
far,  far  away  from  the  weary  present,  that  the  door  had  opened, 
and  his  mother  had  put  her  arms  around  his  neck,  before  he 
became  aware  of  her  entrance. 

"  Eugene,  my  beloved  son,"  said  she, "  I  have  avenged  you.** 

"  Avenged  ?    Dear  mother,  what  can  you  mean  ? " 

"  I  mean  that  Louvois  is  dead — dead  of  humiliation.  And 
that  Bctfbesieur  lives  ;  but  lives  in  the  knowledge  that,  in  four 
years,  he  must  die.    His  life,  then,  unto  the  bitter  end,  will  be 


548  PRINCE  EUGENE  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

one  long  agony.  Eugene,  you  avenged  my  wrongs.  I  have 
now  paid  the  debt." 

Eugene  sighed  heavily.  "  You  have  erred,  mother.  You 
should  have  left  furthei*  vengeance  to  God.  What  does  it 
profit  me  that  Barbesieur  suffers — his  sufferings  cannot  recall 
my  Laura." 

"  Ah,"  said  Olympia,  disappointed,  "  if  you  were  in  healthy 
you  would  not  be  so  pusillanimous,  my  child.  'Tis  easy  to  see 
that  you  are  sick." 

''  No,  mother,  I  am  no  longer  sick.  At  Laura's  command, 
I  have  wrestled  with  bodily  weakness,  and  have  overcome  it.'^ 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,  my  son." 

Eugene  pointed  to  the  figure  of  Doctor  Franzi,  who  just 
then  entered  the  room.  "  Listen,  mother,  and  you  will  under- 
stand." 

The  doctor  advanced,  and,  taking  Eugene's  extended  hand, 
repeated  Laura's  dying  words.  Eugene  looked  at  his  mother, 
and  smiled. 

"  This  message  has  been  the  medicine  that  has  restored  me 
to  health.  My  Laura  speaks  from  beyond  the  grave,  and  I 
must  obey." 

"  Who  but  a  hero  could  have  obeyed  a  mandate  at  once  so 
loving  and  so  cruel  ! "  exclaimed  Doctor  Franzi.  "  Countess, 
I  am  rejoiced  to  see  you,  but  more  especially  rejoice  that  you 
should  have  arrived  to-day. " 

"I  travelled  night  and  day  to  return  in  time,"  said  Olym- 
pia, looking  fondly  at  her  son. 

"  Is  it  a  festival  ? "  asked  he. 

"Yes,  dear  child,"  replied  his  mother,  kissing  him.  "It  is 
your  thirtieth  birth-day." 

"  My  thirtieth  birth-day  ! "  murmured  Eugene.  "  My 
youth  is  no  more  ;  I  enter  upon  the  stern  epoch  of  mature 
manhood." 

"  Youth,  with  its  sweet  visions  of  love,  has  passed  away ; 
but  manhood  will  indemnify  you,  prince,  for  the  sorrows  of 
the  past.  Before  you  lies  a  future  of  usefulness  and  heroism. 
— Congratulate  your  son,  countess,  for  he  yesterday  received 
from  the  Emperor  Leopold  the  chief  command  of  his  armies 
in  Italy.     The  troops  are  on  their  way  now,  to  greet  their  gen- 


VENGEANCE.  549 

eral.  Hark  1  Do  you  not  hear  the  drums  ?  Every  brave 
heart  in  the  army  is  beating  with  joy  at  the  prospect  of  seeing 
him  again." 

"  And  I,  too,  am  joyful  at  the  anticipation,"  replied  Eugene, 
rising  from  his  chair.  "  You  are  right,  Franzi.  I  have  been 
sorely  grieved,  'tis  true  ;  but  I  bear  about  my  heart  the  knowl- 
edge of  my  Laura's  love — as  veritable  now  as  when  I  saw  and 
felt  her  mortal  presence.  This  blessing  shall  make  me  a  hero. 
So  help  me  Grod  !  I  will  strive  hereafter  to  do  my  duty  as  a 
man,  a  soldier,  and  a  Christian." 

The  drums  rolled,  the  trumpets  sounded,  and  thousands  of 
voices  responded  without : 

"  Long  live  our  general  I    Long  live  Prince  Eugene  I  '* 


(«) 


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